She Walks in Beauty Like the Night
by LacrimosaRoseDonovan
Summary: Anne, having such a deep love for her mother, is sent to live with her Aunt Giry at the Opera Populaire, while her mother slowly dies of consumption. Erik, having such a deep love for Christine, is still living beneath the Opera House, living only half a life. Both will be tested and tried in order to find that there is more to the other and more to life than just music.
1. The Beginning with Anne

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne, however, she's mine...well, she resides in my head until her story is done. **

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Chapter One

England

I didn't realize how sick Mama was until I was sent to go live with her sister in Paris. Mama and I had always been close, closer than most people would think proper for a young woman going on the age of twenty-five. I remembered those early days before we went to live with Grandmama, and Mama and I drew so close during our time of much sorrow. Father had died and we realized that it was because of his gambling debts that we would lose everything. Our servants, whom we had loved so dearly, took what they could and fled without so much as a goodbye. The collectors came and took everything else. Then, we sold the house. There was very little left, barely enough for Mama, me, and my little sister who was five years old at the time. I was eleven, and Mama had considered sending me to the workhouse, but she had wanted to keep her daughters close. During those desolate months, Mama worked found work as a housekeeper in a lady's house, and she found me work in the kitchen. Elizabeth, who even at five years was a beautiful child, was allowed to be a companion to the lady's daughter and took lessons with her. Mama and I worked for very little in order to cover the costs of Elizabeth's lessons, but we were given food, shelter, and Mama and I had each other.

Then, just after I had turned fifteen, Grandmama Hillcrest found us. She was a friend to the great lady we worked for, and we were then off to live with Grandmama. She couldn't bear the thought of her own grandchildren working when she had the means to support them. She rebuked Mama for not coming sooner, and Elizabeth and I were sent to school, where I was able to return to my studies that had lapsed since Father's death. I studied music, and art, and literature, and I always told Mama everything. We wrote letters back and forth, and holidays were the best because I got to see her, and it was during my last holiday, just before I turned eighteen that I saw she was sick. In the beginning she was just pale, and had a slight cough. The doctors later said that she had consumption.

Once I left school, to Grandmama's much dislike, I became Mama's nurse. I took care of her as much as I could, but I was committed to social obligations as well. I went to balls, and teas, in hopes to find a suitor, but I was never able to find one who met my standards and I meet his. It wasn't that I had high standards, but I wanted to marry love. Something that Grandmama could not quite understand, but Mama did. Mama had married for love.

"You see how well it turned out for her!" Grandmama would always say. I would always smile and think to myself, that she got me and Elizabeth, even if Father was not the best in the world.

I had been taking a brief nap in my room when I was suddenly woken by the sound of Grandmama talking to Mama in the next room over. Despite the grandeur of the estate, the walls were terribly thin.

"Maria," Grandmama was addressing Mother. "You must send her to visit your sister in Paris. She can't stay here forever as your nurse."

I was approaching twenty-five and Mama had been managed to hold on to life for so long, but I could tell that eventually she would no longer have the courage to keep fighting. A good diet and the will to see me happy had kept her alive, but even I knew she wouldn't live forever.

"But Antoinette is busy looking after her own child, and she works…"

"Yes, yes, I know. She works in that dreadful Opera House, though Heaven knows why she would want to go back there, after the fire. The point of the matter is that Anne has been through too many Seasons here and she is likely to be considered an old-maid very soon! Elizabeth is preparing to make her debut and she is going to be such a triumph. Perhaps sending Anne to France would provide her with the opportunity to marry for love, as you seem to think it's so necessary."

Mother, I knew, desperately wished for me to marry. Not just because it was something that everyone did, or because she wanted me to be away from her, but because she wanted me to be happy, and I think she believed deep down that always being here was not going to make me happy. Sending me to Paris, however, was not something either of us intended. I had not seen Aunt Antoinette since I was very young and it was just before she had had her baby. My curiosity had been peaked at the mention of an Opera House. Of course, I had read of the burning of the Opera Populaire. The details had been vague but there had been murders and a kidnapping just before the Opera House was set a flame. It had taken them till now, five years later, to rebuild it.

"You'd have my daughter be a working girl?" Maria asked.

"What your daughter does is up to you and your sister. I just thought introducing her into a society that she has some interest in might do her a world of good."

I doubted it. Though I would love to be around music all day long, I would hardly think…

"Let me know when she wakes up."

I sat up, realizing that I was to go to Paris. Mama couldn't possibly send me away. She needed me just as much as I needed her.

The door to my room opened and in walked Grandmama. "I suppose you heard our entire conversation, Anne."

"Yes, I did. I am to go then?"

"Go see to your mother, child. She will explain it all to you."

I got out of bed and darted to Mama's room. She was sitting in a rocking chair beside the window. In the pale light of the rainy afternoon, Mama looked almost transparent, as if she were an angel sitting there. "Mother?"

Mama turned and held out her arms to me. I gladly ran to them and knelt down beside her. "Must I go, Mama?"

"We will be a part for just a little while, dearest Anne."

"But what if something should happen to you?" I felt tears prick my eyes. "What shall I do without you?"

"Anne, even if I die while you are away, it is only temporary. Some day we will be together forever." Mama lifted my face and I looked into her beautiful blue eyes. "You knew I wouldn't live forever, child."

"I just thought that you would be around to see me marry and to see your grandchildren."

"I'll see all of that from, Heaven, child. You must be strong, Anne, and know that I will always be with you."

I realized then and there that I would probably never see my mother again if I went to Paris. "Mama…"

"Anastasia." Mother cut me off with a look I knew all too well. "You must not mourn when I am gone. I will go to a place where there is no more pain and no more sorrow."

I laid my head on her lap and I felt her reassuring hand stroke my hair.

It took them two weeks to get everything ready for my departure, and during that time I spent it all with Mama. Mama's health was not doing so well, and I hated to leave her. But maybe the knowledge of me going would make her happy and she could die knowing that I was pursuing my happiness. I would read to her, and sing to her, and when she felt well enough to come down to the music room, I would play for her. My social obligations were put on hold, but Grandmama had seen to making arrangements for me to have an appointment at a Parisian dress shop as soon as I arrived. I would have to be equipped with the latest styles and fashions.

Apparently, I would be staying at the Opera House which was exciting yet frightening. At the London Opera House there were always rumors of ghosts or spirits that would walk the halls late at night, and I couldn't help but wonder what was going to be awaiting me in Paris. Mama had said that they had found private quarters for me, which I found to be slightly ridiculous. I wasn't going to be anyone special so I could have just as well stayed with the ballerinas in the dormitories. However, it was apparently Grandmama's desire that I have my own place to sleep.

Elizabeth I would not see until summer when she would be making her debut into London society. It was just as well. My baby sister and I did not get along well, since I had seemed to excel at everything, and she nothing. The only thing she had ever managed to do well was to attract the attention of the aristocracy. When Elizabeth had turned sixteen, she had had ten marriage proposals before we had even sat down to breakfast. It came as no surprise considering how beautiful Elizabeth was. She had inherited Mama's golden hair, startling blue eyes, and lithe figure. I on the other hand, had blue-black hair that was nothing but curls, eyes that were so light blue they appeared to have no color at all, and a figure that had over-developed when I reached eighteen.

"What are you doing staring at yourself in the mirror, child?"

I turned in my seat to find my mother standing in the doorway of my room. "Mama, you should be resting." I stood up and rushed over to her. I guided her over to my bed and we sat down side by side.

"You look so beautiful, Anne."

I was wearing a traveling gown of dark green and a black jacket. "Thank you, Mama." I waited patiently as Mama had a coughing fit. She coughed into a handkerchief and as always she attempted to hide the blood.

"Now, Anne, I want you to promise me that you will be a good girl and will have a good time in Paris. Antoinette has a daughter about Elizabeth's age, and I would like the two of you to become friends. Her daughter, I fear, has not seen much society since she is always cooped up in the Opera House."

"Yes, Mama." At this point, if she had asked for the moon I would have given it to her.

"You'll be traveling with Jane?" Mama was referring to my maid who was to act as my chaperone and then my maid.

"Yes, Mama."

"Anne, you'll be leaving shortly, and there is something we need to discuss."

Mama had had time to tell me everything I would ever need to know, so I was curious to know what she had wanted to discuss now…just moments before I was to leave.

"What is it?" I took her hands in mine and turned to face her properly.

"Anne, I have no doubt that you're going to meet someone in Paris. While living in the Opera Populaire you will meet many people from all social statuses. You know what I've always wanted for you. I want you to marry for love and to be happy. Though your father left us in terrible circumstances, I loved him deeply. It is a love that I never found again, and I am glad. Now, I know I don't have to tell you to treat people well, because you do that already. However, the heart is very fickle, and you must guard it carefully, yet love with your heart and not with your mind."

"What do you mean?"

"The mind always lies to us. Our minds can be tricked, but the heart is connected to your soul, and if your soul does not burn with love, then you may not have found what you are looking for."

I turned this thought over in my head for a moment. "I think I understand."

"You will understand in time, Anne. Just be happy, and my soul can be at peace."

I leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I promise Mama. I will be happy."

"Anne?! Are you ready?"

The moment had come. I was to be taken from my mother, from heaven itself. Now that it was here, I didn't want to go. "Mama…"

"Goodbye, Anne. Don't look back." She pressed a wrapped parcel into my hands, and I felt as if she were saying goodbye for forever.

I stood up and looked at my mother. She had done all she could in making herself look beautiful for me. But I could tell that the dress hung too loosely and that skin was unusually pale. Could I really leave my mother like this? Could I abandon her after everything we had been through together? Could I let her go?

"ANNE!"

"Goodbye, Mama." I kissed her goodbye and then I fled from the room. I ran all the way down the stairs to where my Grandmama was waiting. I wanted out of the house as fast as I could. I wanted as far away as I could go before I looked back and regretted my decision. My chaperone and I would go by carriage and then board a ship that would take us to France and then take a carriage to Paris.

"Well, Anne, I trust you will make us proud in France. Try not to be too much of a burden to your Aunt. Make yourself useful." She bent down and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

"Yes, Grandmama." I curtsied dutifully and stepped into the carriage. I was not going to look back any more than mother was going to be standing at the window waiting for me to wave goodbye. As the carriage sped away, I felt a sense of great loss. I learned later that mother had cried all night long…just as I had.


	2. A Stranger in Paris

Disclamer: No, I do not own Erik. ( i simply borrow him for my own purposes )

AN: Reviews are very welcome as this is my first published work of fanfiction. Don't be kind but don't be rude. Your opinions are greatly appreciated, and very much looked forward to!

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Chapter Two

**Paris, France**

I won't bore you with the traveling that Jane and I had to endure. Sufficed to say that I spent most of it by myself, either walking on deck, in the cabin, or in the carriage. The traveling left Jane and I wearied and exhausted and we wished nothing more than to be dropped off at the Opera House and whisked into warm comfortable beds.

When we arrived in Paris, the weather was absolutely dreadful. It was just after nightfall and a steady rain had made its appearance. I could not look out the window and admire the beautiful sights, so I was forced to remain awake inside the carriage with nothing to do but listen to the thoughts running rampant in my mind.

The carriage made a sudden stop and I had to fling out my arms to make sure I didn't deposit myself into a heap on the carriage floor. When we didn't resume moving, I assumed we had reached our destination. The door to my left opened and the driver assisted Jane and I down. We had no umbrella and I hated to think that my first appearance to my aunt was to be looking like a wet rat.

A woman was running down the steps and she stopped just in front of Jane and I, thankfully holding her quite large umbrella over us. She appeared to be just over forty years of age, and she had a straight pointed nose, and black eyes.

"Aunt Giry?" I inquired.

"Oh, thank heavens, Anastasia! We thought you would never get here!" Aunt Giry put an arm around me and the three of us ascended the stairs into the Opera House. "We expected you hours ago!"

"Really?" I attempted to wring out my hair that had fallen loose of its many pins.

"Yes! Your mother insisted there would still be daylight upon your arrival." Aunt Giry was putting her umbrella aside and she turned back to me. "Anastasia…your eyes!"

"Is something wrong?" I scrambled to find a looking glass, but it was so dark I could hardly find anything.

"They're…white!"

I laughed. "They're actually a very light blue. In certain lights the color does appear white."

Aunt Giry looked as if I had grown a second head, and I could tell she was giving me a once over. "You've grown into quite a young woman, Anastasia."

"Did you wish I was a bit plainer than I already am?"

"It would be almost easier if you were," I heard her whisper. "Anyway, you are tired I am sure, so let me show to your room. Jane, you'll be sleeping with the other maids, if that's alright."

Jane simply smiled.

"Anastasia, you'll be staying in the old Prima Donna's rooms. No one uses them anymore, and it should be safe for you in there."

"Safe?"  
Aunt Giry bit on her lower lip. "Away from the stage hands, dear."

It was a lie, I could tell, but I let it pass. I wanted nothing more than sleep. I took no time to look around me and to admire what I am sure was a beautiful interior, and I knew it would take time for me to find my way around.

We came to my room, and Aunt Giry unlocked the door. "If there is anything you need, let me know, alright? Tomorrow we'll work on getting you situated."

"Thank you, Aunt Giry," I smiled wearily.

She bent to kiss me, and then she and Jane left. I didn't even bother with my clothes as I fell onto the nearest comfortable couch I could find.

"What are you doing down here?"

Antoinette Giry gasped and turned around only to come face to face with the Phantom of the Opera "Erik! You scared me!"

"Yes, I have that affect on people. Now, I repeat, what are you doing here?"

Madame Giry cleared her throat. "I've come to tell you that there is a new addition to the Populaire household. My niece Anastasia has come to live with my daughter and myself."

"And you would have me, what? Let her be?"

"If you would be so kind. As of yet, she knows nothing I believe of what happened here and she can't go home yet so it would be best if she was not scared out of her wits."

"She cannot go home?" Erik inquired.

"Her mother is dying, my eldest sister. They thought it best if she was sent here till it was all over."

"I'm sure that was meant as a kind gesture." Erik bitterly replied.

"You don't understand. Anastasia has a very good and kind heart. She and her mother went through hell years ago and they've developed a unique bond. If she were to stay and watch her mother die, Anastasia herself would slowly die as well. And that is not what my sister has in mind for her eldest daughter."

Erik stood quietly, pondering what he had been told. "Where does she reside?"

"In the old Prima Donna's rooms. Please, Erik, as a favor to me, don't frighten her away. Just let her be."

Erik look down at Madame Giry and knew that she never asked favors of him…even when _she_ lived in the Opera House. He simply nodded and left her standing on the staircase. His footsteps led him to a place he had not been in years. He honestly had not been paying attention and was surprised when he came to the mirror. It was morning now, but the occupant was still asleep. From his side of the mirror, he could not see the girl properly. All he could see was a green dress, a black jacket, and a mass of black hair.

The door to the room opened and in walked Antoinette. He smirked thinking that this would prove interesting to say the least. He watched as Madame Giry walked to the sleeping girl and gently shook her awake.

"Anastasia?"

The girl moved slightly and soon she was awake. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Aunt Giry? What time is it?"

"It's just after nine, dear. I have rehearsal in an hour and thought you might like to join me. Your mama said that you liked opera and she thought you would enjoy sitting in."

"Only if you call me Anne. I do not like Anastasia."

Madame Giry smiled and helped the girl up. "Of course, Anne. Now, Jane should be along with some breakfast. Why don't you change and then we'll get started on your hair."

Erik watched as Anne went behind a changing screen and as Madame Giry rummaged through the trunks to find something suitable. Well, he had gotten a better look at the girl and found she at least was pretty…as if something like that mattered. He wondered what she was like. He knew all the girls and women here well and found them to be very superficial. He would be loathed to find that there was another fickle, fashion oriented brainless idiot dancing about the stage.

"Aunt Giry could you help me with my corset?"

Erik thought that was his cue to leave, and in truth, it was best that he did. He did not need to know what she was like. He did not need to know what there was that was so special that he could not frighten her. He had locked up his heart and his soul long ago, and nothing was going to change it. He had never dared look at another woman since _she_ left. And he never would. What would be the point?

"Anne, you've grown up quite well."

I gasped for air as I was laced up into the corset. "Thank…you…"

"Here, put this on." Madame Giry handed me a white dressing gown which I put on. "Now, come over here and we'll get started on your hair."

I sat down finding it very difficult to do so in the corset. Aunt Giry had laced it tighter than I was used to. I looked in the mirror and found that my eyes had started to corporate this morning. They were light blue today so hopefully I wouldn't scare anyone. The pins in my hair came down one after another.

"My goodness, I've never seen hair such as yours."

My curly blue-black tresses were thick and hung long down my back settling just below my waist. "It's a bit much."

"How do you care for it?"

"Jane's pretty adept at fixing my hair. When I'm traveling, I usually have it up. Most days I wear it down."

There was a soft knock at the door and it opened to reveal Jane holding a breakfast tray. "Good morning, Miss Anne." She sat the tray down and kindly took the brush from Madame Giry's hand. She ran the brush through my hair and pinned it back with two elegant blue combs.

I let myself be pampered this morning as I ate part of my breakfast. In truth, I was still tired and wanted nothing more than to return to my sleep, despite how restless it had been. Trying to shake off the last remnants of sleep, I looked around the dressing room. The walls were painted a soft white and the furniture was all dark cherry wood. There was very little decoration done, but I assumed that it would be my duty to furnish it as I saw fit. It was not a very beautiful room, but I thought that I could make it very livable in a few weeks.

"You're not very hungry, Miss." Jane chided.

"No…I'm not. Perhaps you should tell who ever is making this food that when I'm hungry I'll ask for something. There's no point in wasting good food." I smiled up at Jane who patted me on the shoulder, took my tray and left.

Glancing at the clock on my vanity, I discarded the dressing robe and stepped into a black skirt and a white button up shirt. "I didn't bring this from home…"

Madame Giry smiled. "No, they're from the costume department. I thought you would like it better than going around in a day dress."

"Thank you, Aunt Giry."

Madame Giry waved away her gratitude and picked up her cane. "It's time for rehearsals."

I bit lower my lip. "Aunt Giry, if it's alright, I would like to take a look around today. Perhaps I could sit in on rehearsal tomorrow?" I could tell that she was nervous at my asking and her eyes darted quickly to the full length mirror that seemed embedded in the wall. She looked back at me and smiled.

"Of course, dear. Just stay where there are windows."

"What do you mean?" My curiosity was peaked as I followed her out of my room.

"Don't go down towards the cellars. It's very easy to get lost down there and it could take us days to find you."

"Aunt Giry, you seem nervous? Are you alright?" I noticed the way she seemed to clench her cane tightly and her eyes seemed to dart this way and that, as if to reassure herself we weren't being followed or overheard.

"Yes, Anne. Now, if you'd like I'd like to take you out to dinner tonight. Nothing fancy, so don't feel like you have to get dressed in anything formal. I'd like to introduce you to my daughter, Meg."

I smiled, remembering mother's desire for me to befriend Aunt Giry's daughter. "Of course."

"Now, I must run, Anne. Five o'clock alright?"

I waved goodbye and was left to myself, at last. Truth be told, I wanted nothing more than to go to my room and just cry. But I knew that my mother would not have approved of such an action. I had to be brave…I had to be strong. Trying to get my bearings, I leaned against the wall and felt the cold hard wood against my hand. Aunt Giry had gone to the right, down the hall and then had turned left. So, I assumed that was going to be my best bet.

I was amazed at the labyrinth that I had unknowingly walked into. I walked amidst the prop departments and costume departments and art departments. I caressed beautiful satins and elegant silks that were waiting to be made into a dress or a cloak and wooden statues waiting to be painted. I received kind nods and hellos from everyone but I didn't stop to make polite conversation. Today, I wanted to just explore and see the mysteries of this Opera House for myself.

I soon found myself backstage watching the performers. The ballerina's were currently off to the side and I found myself quickly sought out by one of the older girls who had the classical blonde hair and blue eyed look.

"You must be Anne." She smiled at me and held out her hand. "I'm Meg, your cousin."

I placed my hand in hers. "It's nice to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you."

"I wish I could say the same. I've heard a lot about your sister, Elizabeth, but Mama has never said much about you."

"Well, if Elizabeth and I stood side by side you would be able to tell why." I brushed off Meg's look of curiosity and returned my attention to the two singers standing at the front of the stage. "So, what is the Opera?"

"The Marriage of Figaro," Meg whispered. "It caused such an uproar in England and Germany that apparently France cannot be outdone."

"Is it so very scandalous then?" I smiled, knowing exactly why it had caused such a fuss back home.

"It makes fun of the nobility! It's something that just isn't done."

I turned innocent eyes to my companion. "And what if the nobility deserve to be made fun of?"

"Anne!" Meg was aghast that I would even suggest such a thing.

"What? I've seen enough of the world to know that the nobility care about nothing but themselves and think that the entire world revolves around them. I've seen them inflict pain and cruelty upon those who do not deserve it. They would mock anything that's different for their own amusement not caring how it would injure others. Yes, Meg. I think they deserve to be mocked for a change."

For a moment, Meg was silent. I supposed she was trying to think over my words and at the same time judge my character. It was a common fault of many people, I believed, to make quick judgments based on first appearances. Undoubtedly, Meg would probably think I was the most scandalous person alive.

"Anne, what kind of life have you known?"

"What?" I looked at her confused at such a question. "What do you mean?'

"To think so ill of people…I've never met anyone like that."

I laughed. "You should get out more, Meg Giry. The world is a cruel dark place. You have to be strong in order to survive it."

"Anne…"

"I'm sorry, Meg. I don't want to talk about this anymore…and you've got rehearsal."

"Oh, there's some problems with the scene so we're not needed at the moment." Meg looped her arm around my waist and put her hand over my ear as if preparing to tell me something. "Have you heard about our Opera Ghost?"

I disentangled myself from her. "It's been a few years since I'd heard something about it."

"Really?! I'm surprised it would have reached so far. The Opera Ghost is a man! He kidnapped Christine Daaé and was responsible for the fire that destroyed the Opera House."

I wondered why Meg was telling me all of this. Truthfully I had put together as much. I had heard of jealous lovers and unrequited love enough in my life to know all of the signs.

"Sometimes, if you're _very_ lucky, you'll see him sitting in Box Five. It's on the first box on stage left. He watches each of the productions and sends his recommendations to the managers. Fortunately, we have a sensible man running the Opera House, who respects our Phantom's advise, though he simply thinks it's just some critic who wishes to remain anonymous and collects a monthly fee because that's how he makes his living."

I smiled. "And people say we women are naïve…"

"What?"

"MEG GIRY?!"

Meg jumped at the sound of her mother's stern voice so close to us.

"Are you a dancer?"

Meg nodded enthusiastically.

"Then go and practice!"

Meg quickly darted off and I tried not to show a sign of relief. If she was going to prove to be nothing more than a gossip monger I was going to have my work cut out for me. How was I supposed to befriend someone who had no idea of what the world outside the Opera Populaire was like? I tried not to groan and rub my temples in frustration.

"I'm sorry if my daughter bothered you, Anne."

"She's fine, Aunt. I daresay she's just longing for someone to talk to. Someone other than a member of the acting troupe."

"Perhaps you're right." Aunt Giry smiled and left me, as she needed to return to her rehearsal.

I thought no more about the scenes before me and decided to discover the mysterious box five. Meg said the Phantom attended performances and I was curious to see if he attended the rehearsals. With a mischievous grin on my lips, I made my way up.

Despite Madame Giry's insistence, Erik did not completely stay away from this new arrival. His curiosity had been peaked at the firmness Madame Giry had placed on the order to keep his distance and to never make himself known to her. Why she had asked him that was a dilemma he has spent most his day pondering before realizing that he had spent most of his time thinking about a woman. He, therefore, decided to go watch over the rehearsal that he knew would be a colossal mess without his instruction.

Erik liked the idea that the new managers thought him some critic of society who had nothing better to do with his time than demand exorbitant fees and say whether or not performances were acceptable. The whispers of the infamous Opera Ghost still lingered, as his calling card had not changed.

He dispensed with the normality of viewing the rehearsals in his box. Instead, he stood up in the catwalk looking down. Most of the stagehands were too ignorant to actually walk around during the rehearsals learning when important scene changes were happening, so nobody would actually see him. If they did? Well, he always kept his Punjab Lasso tucked under his cloak, not that he had ever needed to use it since Piangi five years ago.

Reaching the catwalk, Erik looked down at the troupe and watched closely. The Opera Populaire had changed greatly since André and Firmin. The current managers knew something about art and music and they had hired performers who actually knew what they were doing. Even the lead soprano, Vanessa Carrolton, was quite good and with a little extra practice was an accomplished singer. In the end, there was very little that he needed to comment on and he was able to dedicate most of his day to whatever amused him.

It was from here that he saw the new girl appear in the stage right wings. He was amazed at how she seemed to blend right in with her black skirt and white blouse. Her hair had been pulled back and hung loose down to her waist and she looked as if she belonged here…as if she worked here at the Opera House.

But no. She was a sophisticated lady who would leave when the death of her mother had come and gone. There would be nothing or no one to hold her here. He could tell that just by the way she was talking to Meg Giry, currently the leading ballerina in the troupe. The new girl kept her distance even dissentingly herself from Meg at one point. Though, despite his desire to remain impassive to her, he found their conversation to be quite intriguing.

"The world is a cruel dark place." He overheard her. "You have to be strong in order to survive it."

Erik felt his anger rise. What did she know about the world? Erik gripped the railings so tight he could feel the hard edges through his black gloves. That girl who had been blessed with beauty and a family who obviously loved her, knew _nothing_ about the suffering that had been endured by many of the less fortunate.

"Have you heard about our Opera Ghost?"

Ah, finally. Something he could listen to with great interest. He would know how to proceed from here with the girl based upon what she did or did not say. What he was not prepared for was her almost complete acceptance of the fact that he existed. Either she was in denial or she actually…believed. What did she know? How did she know? Or was she just…pretending? Was this all a game to her?! Surely she couldn't believe just because she read it in a newspaper. Was she really so…gullible?

A noise from his far left made him slink further into the shadows and when he returned to his place on the catwalk she was gone. Meg had returned to practice and the raven haired witch was nowhere to be found. Furious at losing her, Erik wanted to wreck some havoc on the troupe but decided it would be best to not take out his frustration on them…but it would be best to take it out on her.


	3. Seething Shadows Breathing Lies

Disclamer: No, I do not own Erik. ( i simply borrow him for my own purposes )

AN: Reviews are very welcome as this is my first published work of fanfiction. Don't be kind but don't be rude. Your opinions are greatly appreciated, and very much looked forward to! Thank you to those who have "favorite" this story, "follow" the story, and "review" my work. I dedicate this chapter to you who have read/reviewed thus far!

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Chapter 3

It was so beautiful looking down at everything from Box Five. Though it was a little inconvenient to see everything that happened in the wings on stage right, I could see why the Opera Ghost would favor such a seat. The faces of the performers were so clear…the emotion appeared so real. It was beautiful, in its own way.

I leaned back in the red velvet cushioned chair and sighed. I looked around the auditorium. There were seats upon seats, and my eyes drifted up to the chandelier hanging from the hand painted ceiling. Nothing gave evidence that there had been a fire just a few short years ago.

As I sat in the velvet seat, I couldn't help but let my mind drift back across the miles of sea to my mother. It was Wednesday, so Mama would undoubtedly be working on her scripture studies. Wednesday was always her day to study her bible and she would pour over it for hours. Usually, I was with her. We would read Psalms together and she would teach me great things from Proverbs. Sometimes, Mama would read the Psalms and we would sing them to each other. It was one of the few times I sang, since Papa's death. What would she do now, without me there? Who would sing with her? Who would she teach?

I felt the tears running down my face before I realized that I had been crying. I fumbled about for a handkerchief and, frustrated at not finding one, I used my hands to wipe my face. I missed home, so terribly. I slipped my feet out of my shoes and drew my feet up into the chair, resting my chin on my knees. I closed my eyes and spoke softly a prayer.

"O God," I whispered, "who are the only source of health and healing, the Spirit of calm and the central peace of this universe, grant to my such a consciousness of Your indwelling and surrounding presence that she may permit you to give her health and strength and peace, through Jesus Christ our Lord…"

"Damnation!"

I leapt up from my curled up position and leaned over the banister to look down at the stage. One of the backdrops had fallen and crashed onto the stage. No one was hurt, but it had caused quite a ruckus. There were screams and whisperings from each member of the troupe and the orchestral conductor was throwing up his hands in frustration.

"What in Heaven's name...?" I turned and ran out of Box 5 but as my foot crossed the threshold I heard a voice whisper in my ear words that were meant as a warning.

"_Welcome to my Opera House, mademoiselle._"

I stopped and turned around to see who was speaking to me, but I saw no one. "Who is there? Who is speaking to me?" Anyone walking by the door to Box 5 would have thought me mad for talking to the air. No one was there and I couldn't hazard a guess as to where that voice had come from. I slowly backed out of the box and then quickly made my way down to the stage. I had to know what was going on.

"He's here! The Phantom of the Opera," I heard Meg whisper as I reached the stage. She shot me a look that I chose to ignore. Phantoms do not cause mishaps such as this. I looked at the backdrop that had actually torn down the middle as it fell. Hours of hard work destroyed in a matter of seconds.

"The ties must have come undone." I turned to my aunt who was trying to do everything in her power to calm the ballet corp.

"What's going on here?" The troupe turned as two very well dressed gentlemen made their way to the stage. The two men couldn't have been any different in physical appearance. One was tall and willowy with light coloring and green eyes. The other was short and very fat with dark hair and dark eyes. Both appeared to be quite friendly and have very enthusiastic manners. Though they were quite concerned with the accident they did have a look of confusion as to I was and what I was doing in their Opera House.

Aunt Giry put her hand on my back and guided me to the gentlemen. "Anne, these are the Opera Populaire's managers. Monsieur Armand and Monsieur Laurent. Monsieurs, this is my niece Anastasia Hillcrest."

"Please, call me Anne. Everyone else does." I dipped a respectable curtsy and the two gentlemen bowed.

"We were wondering when this niece of yours was going to arrive, Madame Giry," Monsieur Armand gave me a quick once over that I found laughable. "It's a pleasure, mademoiselle."

"Thank you," I replied. "But I see any other further introductions will have to wait." I pointed to the fallen backdrop. "You seem to have a bit of a mishap on your hands."

"Yes, I say Faucher!" Monsieur Laurent yelled up into the rafters. "For God's sake man, what are you about up there?"

I looked up and saw, to my great shock, a young man no more than thirty appear in the light. From my place on the stage he appeared to have blonde hair and was fairly well built. "Forgive me, Monsieurs!" Faucher yelled down. "I don't know what happened! I turned my back for one moment and then…"

"And where is Madame Carrolton?!" Monsieur Armand yelled from behind me. "She was supposed to have been here a full hour ago!"

A man holding what appeared to be the orchestral score spoke up. "I think Monsieurs, that Madame is ill today. She begs a leave of absent."

And that was all. I was pushed to the back of their minds and I became an onlooker of the pandemonium on the stage. I watched as the managers, despite their attempts at a friendly manner, grew angrier and angrier by the minute. To be sure, I found it quite amusing as none of it had to do with me, but I could easily tell when my presence was no longer needed, and would be a hindrance if I stayed.

I turned away, attempting to make an escape when I caught a glimpse of the ropes. They had been cut! I saw something flicker to my right and my eyes were drawn to Box 5, where I had just left. I saw a flash of white and a gloved hand just briefly before both disappeared. I opened my mouth to say something, but found no one who would listen as everyone seemed preoccupied.

I made my way out of the auditorium going through the house instead of through the wings on stage. I ran my hand along the red velvet cushions of the house seats and tried to picture the place filled with men and women of the best of society filling up the house to its brim. The ladies would be in their best dresses wearing their finest jewels and the men who would be in their best suits trying to stay awake. I have never felt that men could truly understand the power of music and of art. It was something that only women could truly master, since we generally tended to feel greater than men.

My footsteps led me, not surprisingly, to the main entrance of the Opera House. I had never seen such exquisite art and architectural design that had gone into one room. If I had entered through the front of the opera, I would see immediately beautiful white marble floors that were interlaced with gold marble. My eyes would naturally see beautiful white pillars that would resemble any Grecian temple. A rising staircase started just over halfway into the entrance that rose to the second floor which had beautiful banisters overlooking the scene below. There was a third floor above that I could not see how to get to, but my eyes kept going farther and farther up until I could see a beautiful golden chandelier that had hundreds of lit candles. The color scheme throughout this entrance was all white and gold and there were at least twenty different golden statues on the first floor and undoubtedly just as many on the higher floors.

Standing there, beneath the chandelier, I felt suddenly very insignificant and very much out of my comfort. I looked down at my black skirt and white shirt. I did not belong amidst the wild splendor of the Opera House…at least, not to the part that was always visible. Despite my love of music and art, I had no desire to be in front of an audience, to sing or to dance or to do anything that would really draw attention to myself. That was Elizabeth's job.

"_Always make yourself useful, Anne._" My grandmother's voice played in my head. "_It is your responsibility to be at a service to everyone. Never put yourself forward. Let your sister, Elizabeth, make all the headway. She was born to greatness. She was born to great things. You, are to make sure that happens._"

I put my hands over my ears trying to block out the harsh and unloving words. I felt, in that moment, that leaving England was probably the best thing for my sister but where would that leave me? What would become of me? I knew that grandmother wanted me to be here so that I could marry someone, but she had no love of the French so I was just a blight on her road map of securing a match for her favorite granddaughter. But what of my happiness? Wasn't I worthy of having someone to love me just like Papa had loved Mama? Wasn't I worthy of happiness? Of joy? My heart screamed that I was, but my head told a far different story. To be of use…that was my purpose.

"Miss Anne?"

I looked up and saw Jane staring at me with confusion and great worry. I let my hands fall away from my ears. "Yes, Jane. What is it?"

"Begging your pardon miss, but I thought you might want to rest a little bit. We were on the ship for such a great time and the carriage was not too comfortable either."

I smiled. Jane was always looking out for me. She was close in age to me, just a few years older, and had been with me since my formal education under Grandmother's guidance had ended.

"I should perhaps like to lie down a little Jane." I felt a small rumble in my stomach and I chuckled. "Would you be so kind…"

"Say no more, Miss Anne. Let me take you to your room, first."

I was surprised that Jane knew her way back to my room so soon after our arrival. But then, Jane tended to be a very observant person. She always knew where to find me and what mood I was in. It shouldn't have come as a great shock that she should be acquainted with the journey back to my room.

I tried to commit the route to memory but knew that only practice would commit it to permanence. I fumbled along as well as I could and smiled at Jane when she opened the door to my room. She had me situated me on the divan.

"I'll be right back, Miss Anne. You just rest, now."

I nodded, truly feeling comforted with Jane's honest and friendly face. We never were truly close, not like the best of friends tend to be, but we were companion for the other. We never complained but told each other of the fleeting moments of happiness that had occurred in our lives which always tended to outweigh the bad.

I rested my head against the arm of the couch and closed my eyes. I heard the soft click of the door as Jane left and smiled. She would probably not be bringing tea as she knew I would probably fall asleep. Indeed, she was right. I succumbed to sleep just moments after welcoming a brief dip into dreams which was one of the rare pieces of happiness I could find.


	4. The Choice and Dinner

**Disclamer: No, I do not own Erik. ( i simply borrow him for my own purposes )**

**AN: I'm going to apologize now. Erik's POV is very very very VERY hard for me to write. So, if it's terrible, sorry! If you have favorited or follow this story, _please _leave a review as I would like to know what you do like about my work. I'm always anxious for good and/or critical reviews!**

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Chapter 4

Nothing had been accomplished! Hours had been spent in front of sheet music and nothing had been written. Six hours and there was nothing but black smudges and crossed out attempts. Melodies ran rampant in his mind, but as soon as he tried to write them down, they slipped away like sand through his fingers.

The Phantom of the Opera cursed underneath his breath as he looked at the shabby parchment. He truly should not have been so surprised. After the _Don Juan_ had been completed and his beloved Christine had left, there had been nothing. Oh, there had been a few nocturnes that he had written while in the depths of his despair, but after he had resurfaced from the ocean of his tears…nothing. Not one completed piece of music. His painting had suffered as well. He couldn't paint, couldn't write, couldn't do anything anymore!

He picked up the sheet music and tossed it aside with the rest of the discarded work. He couldn't let Christine go! She was still in his mind, in his soul, in his very blood! Erik clenched his fists and his nails bit into his palms. It was almost as if there was nothing left to live for anymore. Madame Giry had so _kindly_ let him know of Christine's rise to not just Vicomtess but to mother as well. Well, if she could be happy with a man who could not love her for more than just her pretty face then fine! Let them be happy with something that fades away with time!

"I would have loved her forever," he whispered to the empty air. "I would have made her happy…" He tore his mask from his face as he felt the unbidden tears prick his eyes and roll down his face. He had long thought his body was done with tears especially tears for Christine, but apparently his heart wasn't.

"Erik?"

The voice echoed in the candlelit room. Fortunately, the voice was not in the same room as he. Within moments, his face was devoid of those retched tears, and his mask had returned to his face. He exited his music room and left his house. He was surprised to see Madame Giry standing on his side of the lake. How had she crossed without him knowing? He had traps and sensors that let him know when he had visitors.

"What are you doing here?"

"Why did you cut the backdrop?" She demanded. Her hands were on her hips and her eyes were hard.

Erik shrugged. "Do you need a reason?"

"You have practically directed this entire Opera, hand picked the troupe as well as the orchestra. Everything was going so smoothly and now the art department has to do another backdrop. We'll be fortunate if this has not set back production. So, _yes_. I do need a reason."

"It's what I do," he said, smiling smugly.

"Yes, when Andre and Firmin were managers. But now, for some reason, there are managers who are willing to overlook your pranks and take your advice and pay your exorbitant fee. There is no reason unless you are so bored that it is your only way to amuse yourself."

"This is my Opera House! I shall do as I like!"

"Spoken like a spoiled child, Erik."

Erik's eyes blazed fire. This was his home and he would do as he saw fit and no one could tell him differently. This was the only place he felt safe, away from the hurtful eyes of the cold world.

"_I've seen enough of the world to know that the nobility care about nothing but themselves and think that the entire world revolves around them._" The words of the newcomer rang loudly in his ears. What had brought them on? He mentally shook his head, not curious to find out.

Madame Giry's shoulders slumped in weariness and almost defeat. "Erik, Christine is gone. She is not coming back. You need to move on. Find something else to fill your days."

"Replace her? The one who made my soul fly?!" The idea was unthinkable and, quite frankly, impossible. No one could replace Christine! No one would ever come close to her equal!

The ballet mistress sighed and rubbed her temples. "I'm not saying you need to replace her with another woman. Just accept that she's not coming back to you. Understand that she has a new life now and that you need to find a new life and to move on. Living in the past will do you more harm than good." She gestured to his house. "Is this how you want to live, Erik? In the darkness, always in hiding?"

"What choice do I have?" Erik's voice broke.

"There is always a choice, Erik. You _always_ have a choice."

* * *

I awoke to the smell of vanilla and jasmine. At first I didn't want to wake up as I had been dreaming of my mother and of the sweet moments we shared even amidst our great sorrow.

"_You must not always be so quick to judge, Anne_." I heard her say. "_You never know a person's story so you cannot base your opinion on first impressions._"

The cobwebs and fog of my dreams slipped away and I opened my eyes. Everything seemed a blur and all I could make out were the candles. I blinked a few times and shook my head trying to fully wake myself to reality.

"Good evening Miss Anne." Jane smiled and poured a pitcher of water into a bathtub. "You've been asleep all day. Your Aunt and Meg will be here in just over an hour so you can go to dinner."

I sat up slowly my hand instantly going to my head. "Have I really been asleep all day?"

"Yes, miss. I brought you back to your room around eleven and it's now six o'clock." Jane sat the pitcher aside and came to help me up. "You look quite pale, miss, if you allow me to say so."

"I feel a little out of sorts but I suppose that's what happens when I sleep the day away. I daresay I won't get any sleep tonight." I stood up, grateful for Jane's assistance, and she guided me to behind the changing screen. I undid my blouse and took off the skirt but called for her when it was time to unlace the corset. Her hands worked swiftly and there was an audible gasp when it was fully removed.

"Perhaps…not so tight tonight, miss?" Jane asked.

Removing my shift, I looked at my skin. Aunt Giry had tightened it a little tighter than I was used to. My skin was red from the bone wiring and there were impressions in my skin from where the corset had been.

"I think you're right, Jane. Not so tight." I placed my hands over my stomach and winced at the contact. Why people had insisted on creating those stupid things when all they did was cause pain was beyond me.

"Now Miss Anne, you hop right into that bath and I'll pick out something for you to wear tonight."

I quickly did as I was told feeling all of my muscles relax went I felt the warm water. Jane had added the vanilla and jasmine that I always had in my bath and had the water was very warm and bubbly. I watched Jane as she bustled around the room and I realized that she had unpacked all of my trunks save for one. There was a special trunk that I had told her not to unpack as I wanted time myself to take care of it. Indeed, I wouldn't even unpack it, and it was a little box that held personal memories for me. At that moment, I remembered the parcel that mother had given me just before I left.

"Jane, where is that parcel that I had when we left England?"

She pulled it out of my wardrobe. It had been occupying the top shelf. "Would you like me to unwrap it for you?"

I smiled. "No, thank you. It's from Mama and I'll probably open it later when I come back."

She nodded and put the parcel on my vanity. "What do you think, Miss Anne?" She returned to the wardrobe and pulled out a lavender evening dress. It had black lace and ruffles and I had black shoes to go with it. "The blue would work just as well."

I thought for a moment. None of my dresses were overly grand, as Grandmother had wanted to spend all of her money on Elizabeth. "I think the lavender will be beautiful. Thank you, Jane."

She laid the dress on my bed and smoothed out the wrinkles. "You going to sleep in your bed tonight, miss?"

I tilted my head to the side. "Why do you ask that?"

"Well, you've slept on the divan these last two times…"

I laughed. "True. I think I shall let the bed serve its purpose tonight. No point in letting it just take up space."

Jane took a seat on the vanity stool and talked to me while I bathed. It was a common thing for the two of us. I did not let her pamper me when I was fully capable of washing myself, but as it had been expected at Grandmother's house, we used the time to get better acquainted.

She picked up some embroidery she had brought with her and told me about her first day. She talked about meeting the cook and about her own sleeping quarters which were in one of the rooms set aside for wardrobe and costume ladies. Most people had their own flats and apartments but those who wanted to stay at the Opera House had beds and dressers if they were required. There were plenty of rooms, why not use them? She rambled on about how she met the lady who we at home would call "Cook" and how that lady was married to the stagehand. It was when she talked about the occurrence on stage that my ears perked up.

"Oh, I heard the managers were in a find tizzy." She giggled. "The backdrop had been torn when it fell you see, and the art department has to start all over again. They are all furious at who tied those knots as they obviously weren't very secure." She rattled on to another topic before I had time to even tell her about what I had seen.

As she kept rambling on, I was suddenly grateful that Grandmother had seen fit to find someone who was English born but spoke good French. Jane's mother was French and if she hadn't been and hadn't taught her daughter her own native tongue, then Jane would never be able to tell me any of these things.

"Oh, Miss Anne!" She put her embroidery aside and grabbed a towel. "We need to get you ready. Madame Giry will be here with the little Giry and you're not dressed!"

Jane always did her best work when she was either seriously concentrating or when she was in a hurry. On this occasion, she was both concentrating and in hurry. In a matter of what seemed like minutes, I was laced up into my corset, laced up into my dress, and sitting in front of my vanity so that Jane could do my hair.

"Up?" Jane asked.

I shook my head. So much hair piled up on my head as it had been for all day was going to soon give me a headache. "Down, please."

The pins from where my hair had been up were swiftly taken down, and it was all gently brushed through. It hair was pulled back at the sides and it all fell beautifully down to my back.

"Oh, Miss Anne. You look like a princess!"

"Hardly, Jane!" I laughed and patted her on the hand. She was indeed too good to me, but she was a very good friend nonetheless. "Now, hand me my black gloves and…"

There was a knock at my door and Aunt Giry walked in with Meg. "Anne…are you ready?"

She stopped when she looked at me and I stood up. "Why…Anne! You look quite beautiful!"

"Oh, _maman_! Her gown is gorgeous!"

I brushed aside the complements. I made a mental note to hand all my dresses over to Meg after I was fitted with new ones. Since I was, finally, on my own for what I could wear, I would probably end up getting material from the shops and having someone make me what I wanted. Since my tastes did not include fine dresses, I would have no need of these gowns.

"Well, Anne, are we ready?"

Meg came over and grabbed my hand as if we were friends already. I said goodbye to Jane who waved me off and closed the bedroom door behind me.

"So, Anne, what have you been doing with yourself today?" Meg looked up at me, and I took a moment to admire her dress. She was in a very simple pink evening gown and her blonde hair had been twisted into a beautiful knot at the base of her neck. She had on a small pink hat that was pinned askew on her head. She was very pretty, in an innocent sort of way.

"I must confess that after the incident on stage I was returned to my room and I fell asleep."

"Ah, our Opera Ghost," Meg whispered as we exited the fancy entrance hall and stepped into the evening air. The sun was almost setting and it was almost as if someone had painted the night sky. Lines of pink, purple, red, orange, and blue flicked across the wide canvas of the horizon. There were already boys out lighting the street lanterns.

I looked at Aunt Giry who was glaring back at her daughter and Meg conveniently switched topics to rehearsals. I was confused at how my Aunt would want to avert the conversation away from something that everyone knew was a myth, but as she was Meg's parent, it was not my place to intervene.


	5. Ask and Ye Shall Receive

**Disclamer: No, I do not own Erik. ( i simply borrow him for my own purposes )**

**AN: For Nuria786 who has more faith in my knowledge of where I'm taking this than I do! 3**

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Chapter 5

Dinner, surprisingly, turned out to be quite entertaining. I had hardly ever seen my Aunt and had never really been acquainted with Meg so there were years to catch up on. When I had ordered my dinner with perfect French pronunciation, Meg had wanted to know what great school I had attended and what other talents I had hidden up my sleeve.

"Oh but you must play the piano and sing divinely!" Meg ejaculated taking a small sip of red wine. "I hear that's what all the fine girls in England do."

I saw Aunt Giry look nervously at me, as if my talents was something that would be worried over. I took a sip of water and looked back at Meg. "I did sing, once upon another time, Meg. But at times I still play. I had a very good tutor while living with Grandmother." I felt tears prick my eyes and I blinked rapidly to keep them at bay. Singing and the piano brought back memories of a happier time, when Papa was still alive. It was a time before the great sorrow and I didn't want to dwell on it. I had been carefree and there was nothing to worry over. We didn't think about where the money was going to come from or what we would have for dinner.

"Do you read, Anne? Did you get any sort of taste of literature?"

I met Aunt Giry's eyes and saw compassion there. Undoubtedly, Mama had told her everything about our circumstances and while part of me was angered at the thought of our situation made known, I was also grateful. Obviously, Mama trusted her.

"I did. There's an English authoress that I am quite fascinated with."

"A _female_ writer!" Meg squealed. "How scandalous."

"Not necessarily," I corrected. "It's quite refreshing and liberating to hear a love story told from the side of a woman as opposed to that of a man."

Meg appeared to have nothing to say to my remarks and so I returned to my roast chicken, broiled tomatoes and buttered green beans. I didn't order wine with my dinner as I found it have too many negative effects. I had just finished cutting a piece of chicken with something occurred to me.

"Aunt?"

"Yes, Anne?" I waited until she had finished chewing her food before posing my question.

"The ropes today that held up the backdrop. Did you happen to notice that they had been cut?"

I watched the expressions play across her face. Surprise, fear, worry, and then absolute calm. It almost unnerved me to see her face so composed. "No, I didn't. And in any case, it would be impossible to cut all the ropes at the same time."

I tilted my head. "What do you mean?"

She smiled sweetly and I couldn't tell if this had been something she had rehearsing or if she was used to making these type of…excuses? "You noticed, I'm sure, how the backdrop fell at once. There would have to be a group of people up there that cut them all at the same time. It's quite more plausible that the ropes were not secured properly."

"_All_ the ropes, Aunt?" I asked. "Sounds just as improbable that all the ropes were not secured well."

Aunt Giry looked away, clearly uncomfortable. Both mother and daughter silenced within the space of a few moments. It hadn't been intentional. I hadn't intended to make a fuss or make anyone uneasy.

"Aunt, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything, but I was curious. I guess there really isn't a good explanation." I smiled and when she returned it, I knew I was forgiven. "So, Meg, how long have you been dancing?" I turned the attention away from me, and on to someone who was far more willing to talk.

"I've been dancing for as long as I can remember. I'm close to becoming the Prima, with just a little more practice and a bit more…maturity." She whispered the last word as if it was some great big secret that I was to help her keep. I chuckled and was once again amazed at how much she resembled Elizabeth. They both were very personable with the same golden hair and blue eyes. I had no doubt that when and if Meg was introduced into what was considered "proper" society, she would be immediately sought after.

"I have no doubt that you will reach that level in no time." I gave her hand a quick squeeze and looked at my Aunt. "And you've been teaching for…?"

"Several years, Anne. I came to the Opera House when I was about five and have been here ever since. Your mother even danced for a few years before she met your father."

My ears perked up. "Really?" I never heard the story of how my parents met.

Aunt Giry smiled in remembrance. "Your mother, though never a prominent dancer, was quite a beauty and she attracted your father's interest during one of our performances, I don't remember what it was." She laughed. "Oh, they were so in love." Her smile faded and she looked to her left. I could tell that she wasn't necessarily looking at anything in particular. "It was a great sadness when she left. I hardly ever saw her after she moved to England. We wrote letters every so often. I still have the letters announcing your birth and then the birth of your sister." She returned her eyes back to me and I could see there were tears standing there.

"To think…I shan't see her again." Her voice broke but her tears would not fall.

I clenched my fists in my lap trying to hold my own tears at bay. "There is still time. Perhaps you could make a journey to see her. I'm sure she would be delighted to see you."

But Aunt Giry just sighed and shook her head. "I'm afraid that would be impossible. We parted on such on equal terms."

"It cannot be so unequal that she asked you to look after me during her final…time." I wasn't really sure how much time Mama had…years? Months? Days? I put a hand over my mouth and rested my elbow on the table.

"Anne…are you alright?" Meg reached over and put a hand on my shoulder.

I regained my composure as well as I could and smiled. "Yes, Meg. I'm fine."

"Oh, Mama! Did I tell you about what Anne said during rehearsal?" Meg's voice had dropped to that ridiculous whisper again.

Aunt Giry cast me a sly look and I ducked my head. It sounded so foolish now to be talking about the nobility the way that I had.

"Yes, and I do believe that Anne was quite right. You know so little of the world, my precious child. However, you should know enough to know that not everything is as it seems. Even the nobility." Mother cast daughter a meaningful look that I found myself slightly irritated at not understanding that meaning.

As dinner progressed into dessert, something I had to not partake of since I was quite full, Aunt Giry began to tell stories of what my mother was like when she was a dancer. She told me of the little pranks that got caught in and how my mother was quite the mastermind behind them all. I was amazed at having my mother talked of in such a way since I had never even suspected she could conceive such tricks!

We spent the rest of the evening in amiable conversation and I, despite any earlier apprehensions about coming to France, felt strangely happy about being here. I knew that it wouldn't last. Happiness never does, but I would enjoy the time I got to spend with my newly discovered family.

We made our way back to the Opera House sooner than I had expected, but then looked out into the night and saw that night had officially fallen and stars had littered the night sky. The street lamps had all been lit but their light cast eerie shadows on the pavement. Aunt Giry had insisted on not taking a carriage to the restaurant and I was now extremely grateful. I was going to need to take a long walk after that filling dinner.

"Do you think you're going to miss home very much?" Meg asked, looping her arm through mine.

"Well, it _was_ my home, Meg. I think I'll probably write to my mother nearly everyday."

"Oh, well, we'll go to the _La Poste_ on Saturday! We can even go some of the shops! I won't have rehearsal, so we'll have all day."

I was very excited to be able to send letters home, and I could tell that Meg would become quite a good companion…well, eventually. She had a little growing up to do, but maybe being more acquainted of the world could be a negative thing. Her carefree manner, not to mention beauty, would be a good asset for any young man who was looking for beauty…not fortune.

The walk the Opera Populaire was filled with just as much conversation as dinner. Meg talked about roles she had danced, her hopes for the future, and even dropped hints of the latest gossip running around the opera walls. I laughed along with her, finding it all truly amusing considering the different lives we had led.

While I was walking along, I felt another presence amidst our trio. I couldn't really describe it, but it made me feel cold and a little nervous. I saw shadows where there was light, and merely assumed that it was just someone else walking the beautiful Parisian streets. But I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was following us. Aunt Giry seemed to sense it too as she was constantly looking over her shoulder and around her as if she knew someone was there.

"Aunt, is everything alright?" I whispered, while Meg was sighing over the lead tenor in the troupe.

"I have to keep a sharp lookout, Anne. We don't want any problems while we're out walking, now do we?" She smiled and patted my arm affectionately. I couldn't help but wondering why every time I asked her a question, she always appeared to be hiding something. Though her answer seemed plausible enough, it still held the hint of uncertainty and secrecy. I had seen my mother hide the truth from my little sister often enough to know when someone wasn't being entirely forth coming.

"_Of course you can go on a trip with the Miss Wetheringtons, Elizabeth. We can more than cover the expense!_" Mama's voice rang in my head from one of the many times she had allowed her youngest child to go off on some new excursion or adventure. We never really had the money, but Mama always did what she had to, to make things right.

We reached the Opera House quicker than I had thought and Meg was on her way to the dormitories before I could even return her goodbyes. Aunt Giry, however, followed me to my room. Jane would either be waiting for me in my room or she would be fast asleep in her own chambers. Either way, I spoke softly to my Aunt who was just as quiet beside me.

"Aunt, I am quite sure that Mama has told you most if not all of our circumstances before residing with Grandmother."

"She made me aware of everything, Anne. It was not the main reason that I agreed to look after you, but she did feel it was important for me to know all." She wrapped her arm around my shoulders and I couldn't help but walk closer to her as we reached my room.

"I wish that…well, I would rather that…" I bit my lip nervously and looked around in case anyone should hear.

"Yes, child?" She looked at me expectantly and I leaned against my closed bedroom door.

"If you would be so kind as to _not_ relay any of that information to anyone…I should be most grateful." I lowered my head and I could feel my cheeks burn. "It's not for myself, you see. It's for Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth? Whatever for?"

I opened my room and gestured for her to come inside. I did not want anyone to hear what we would be talking about. Thankfully, she came in and, after closing the door, we both sat on the divan. I put my hands in my lap and clenched them tightly.

"Anne…what is it? You must know that I would never tell anyone what you or your mother went through, but is there something else I need to know about? Someone from you past that I…?"

"Oh, no! Nothing like that!" I raised my eyes to hers and saw only compassion and friendship there. If Mama could trust her, then I most definitely could. "It's just that…it has always been expected, especially when we lived with Grandmother, to make an eligible match." I laughed, for even though my sister and I didn't always get along, I still loved her and wanted to do well. "She's quite a beauty and will therefore be most sought after she finishes her schooling. I would really wish that no one really know about what her life was like before we regained our footing in society. Mama never really went out much after…well, when the sorrow was all over. I, never could find anyone to match my level of understanding and passion for things other than tending to a house, so I probably never shall marry, but I would hate that our past be a hindrance for Elizabeth. She is destined to do well for herself and I would not like our history spread around."

"You do realize that I have not the acquaintance that would reach all the way to England, Anne."

"Well, if Elizabeth should come here, however unlikely, but if she did, I would like her to have every possible advantage."

Aunt Giry smiled suddenly and reached out and touched my face. She cupped my cheek and rubbed her thumb across my cheekbone.

"What?" I smiled, tilting my head. "Have I said something nonsensical? That happens every so often."

"You are quite a beautiful person, Anne."

I scoffed. "You haven't seen Elizabeth."

"I wasn't talking about outward beauty, Anastasia," her voice didn't sound stern but it held a touch of authority that caught my attention. "You have a real inner beauty, and even though you've been here for only a day, I'm very glad that I could offer you refuge here. But, rest assured, I won't say anything."

I sighed. "Thank you, Aunt."

"No thanks needed, Anne." She kissed my forehead. "Now, do you need some help getting ready for bed?"

I shook my head. "I think I can manage."

"Well, then I will say good night. You should write to your mother in the morning. I'll come and see you about noon. So, feel free to sleep as long as you like."

"Thank you." Though I had only been here for a day, I still felt very happy to be here with Aunt Giry and with Meg and to be at the Opera House. I felt that I could be happy here forever, if time allowed it and necessity never called me elsewhere.

I watched her rise from the divan and walk to the door. We said goodnight to each other and she closed the door. Though she was gone, I still felt a presence in the room. I had an eerie feeling, just like I had while we were walking back from the restaurant. I could feel another pair of eyes in the room. I crossed my arms, feeling suddenly cold. Putting it up to my imagination, I went behind my changing screen, got ready for bed, blew out the candles, said my prayers, and fell promptly to sleep.

* * *

**AN: Sorry about not putting the Erik and Anne together. I'm not one of those who throws people together without good provocation and right now, it's not there. So...if you're looking for a quick read, you should probably move to another story. Sorry! But if you DO stop here and choose not to continue on, drop me a line! I'd like to know why you chose to stop here...or even better still...why you want to come back for more! **


	6. Flash of Mauve Splash of Puce

**Disclamer: No, I do not own Erik. ( i simply borrow him for my own purposes )**

**AN: Sorry for the long wait. My husband and I have family coming in for the holiday weekend, and we've spent all week getting ready. As always, thank you for going this far with me and please, tell me what you think!**

* * *

Chapter 6

"_Dear Mama,_

_I have arrived at Paris and I find everything to be just wonderful. Of course, I'm probably taking everything at face value. Aunt Giry and Meg are very friendly and I'll be spending some time observing rehearsals, provided they don't ask me out of the auditorium. We went out to dinner last night and I got to learn a lot more about your sister and my wonderful cousin. Meg is a lot like Elizabeth but I think lacking the forthwith manner that Elizabeth has._

_I trust you are doing well. I pray you are so. I say my prayers, just like you taught me and I am told that there is a chapel here so that I can go pray away from everyone. Speaking of prayers, I was in the middle of a prayer while observing the spectacular view from Box 5 when someone cut the ropes of the backdrop! Everyone says it was an accident but I saw the ropes and they were cut. I think Aunt is hiding something because she seems to know a lot more than she is letting on, but I'm learning to trust her as you have…_"

I finished reading over my letter, folded it, and sealed it. I had spent well over an hour composing the letter including everything I had seen during my first three days at the Opera House. It was now Saturday and Meg was due any minute. She would come bursting through my door at the drop of the hat and we would be off doing…well, whatever popped into Meg's head. I knew that I had to go post my letter and that I needed some new dresses, or Grandmother would kill me.

I looked at my reflection in the floor length mirror. My blue morning dress was a pleasant contrast with my dark hair and made my eyes actually appear blue. I did not want to avoid any unwanted stares. I adjusted the cuffs of my sleeves when I felt that uncanny feeling that I was being watched. For the past two days, ever since I returned back from the restaurant, I felt as if someone was watching me. I had always believed in some sort of guardian angel, but this felt different. I didn't feel threatened, but I didn't feel protected either. There was just this presence that walked with me and was with me…everywhere.

"ANNE!" Meg bounded through my door just as I suspected and wrapped her arms around my waist. She looked at my reflection in the mirror and gasped. "You look absolutely beautiful!"

Beautiful was never a word used by anyone in reference to me except by Mama. "Well...I don't _feel_ beautiful, but I thank you for the compliment just the same."

"Oh, I wish I had dark hair like yours. People don't seem to take blondes very seriously." Meg fingered her blonde curls that today piled atop her head but left to hang loose down by her shoulders. She looked grown up but that youthful innocence was hard to hide. Meg wore a light green day dress with black trim and it brought out the green in her blue green eyes. Her skin appeared ivory in the candle light but I knew that once we reached the sunlight she would shine beautifully.

I look back at the mirror and smiled at myself. I wasn't jealous of Meg's beauty. I had learned a long time ago that worrying about appearances and what a person looked like mattered very little with what was on the inside.

"_Beauty is of little consequence, Anne._" Mama's voice sounded in my head like it had so many other times in the past three days. "_And besides, a true person's beauty comes from within. One beautiful soul will mean more than a thousand beautiful faces._"

When it was apparent that Elizabeth would make a great mark upon the world, I learned, very quickly, to not expect much and had therefore made a great effort to like who I was, knowing that I couldn't ever really change it. Yes, in the beginning it had been a trial. Papa had always thought I would turn out a beauty, and a young daughter always wants to be the pride of her father's eye.

"Anne?" Meg shook my arm gently and brought me instantly out of my reverie. "Are you alright?"

I smiled and looked over at her. "Yes, Meg. I'm quite alright. Shall we get going?"

"Yes! I have so much to show you!"

I just barely managed to catch my breath as Meg grabbed my hand and led me from my room to the sunny streets of Paris. As if we had been friends for years, instead of acquaintances for three days, Meg looped her arm through mine and guided me through the busy streets. It was not yet noon but there was a pleasant warmth in the air and there was a slight breeze. Everyone around us was talking in hurried French and I barely caught any of the conversations going on around me. Gone was the darkness and shadows of Wednesday nights and it was replaced by the sunlight and brightness of Saturday. I had scarcely had time to set foot outside of the Opera House as I spent most of the previous days lost in rehearsal. I managed to sneak in when no one was watching and slip right back out before rehearsal was over. It wasn't that I didn't feel particularly welcome, it was just that I didn't want to be seen or get into any sort of trouble. After all, I was new to the Opera House. Who were they to think that I could be running off and telling some critic or well payer the secrets of rehearsals? I wouldn't put it past them. I had seen things like that happen countless times at the Wetheringtons.

"So, we have to post your letter, first." Meg pulled me along to _la poste _and my letter was paid for and then placed in a bag that was to be shipped to England where it would, hopefully, make it to my mother in good time. The gentleman was very kind and promised that he would have it off before the end of the day as the service hadn't made its run yet. I thanked him kindly for his services and was a bit surprised at his kindness. I chuckled slightly as I remembered that Mama had told me that the French could be exceptionally haughty.

"I think we should go to _La Marguerite_." Meg pushed a blonde curl over her shoulder. "They have some of the latest in French fashion and they're quite proficient at getting their customers in and out in record time."

"Have you been there often?" I asked, secretly worrying about the bill that would be incurred. I knew that Grandmother wouldn't mind dropping a pretty franc on keeping me fashionably up to date, but I hated shopping and having a large bill to settle wasn't something I enjoyed, especially when my mother had had so little money for so long.

"I've been there but not for myself. The Vicomte de Chagny took his wife there to buy her wedding trousseau. His wife, who used to be Christine Daae, was a ballet dancer at the Opera House and is still my closest friend." Meg's face lit up talking about this Christine Daae, and I could tell that their friendship ran deep. "I was with her through everything when she lived at the Populaire, and I was her_demoiselle d'honneur _at her wedding. Her maid of honor."

"Where is she now?" We turned onto a new street that was filled with adorable little shops.

"She's currently in Italy with her husband, I believe. They have a daughter, Adele." Meg got awfully quiet and bit her lower lip. She looked up at the pink cloth overhang that marked _La Marguerite_. "To be honest, I haven't really had much contact with her since she got married."

Meg walked in first and I heard the tinkle of the bell. I chose not to continue the conversation about Christine, as it appeared to make Meg uncomfortable. Friends were hard to make, even harder to keep when circumstances changed. That was a fact of every day life.

"Ah! Bonjour, mademoiselles!"

The shop keeper was an older lady, with salt and pepper hair and adorable crows feet around her eyes. She was wearing a pink day dress which made her appear younger but the excessive amount of make up on her face made her appear older than she was. It was an amusing sight and I was glad she mistook my smile for a friendly greeting.

"Good morning, Madame!" Meg stepped forward to accept the lady as an old acquaintance. "I have a friend here who is in need of the latest Parisian fashion!" Meg pushed me forward and I gave a respectful curtsy. However, without really acknowledging my curtsy, I was pulled farther into her shop without further ado and was then lost in a whirlwind of satin, silk, and lace.

The _patron_, whose name I discovered to be Catherine, was talking in hurried French, taking my measurements and asking me all sorts of questions. Where I was staying, how long I was going to be in Paris, did I have a secret admirer back home…the questions went on and on. I answered all her questions and she was quite interested when I told her I lived at the Opera House.

"Ohhh….I do all of the Vicomtess de Chagny's dresses. Everything she owns comes from this shop." She chuckled. "Well, besides the family jewels and a few specialty gowns the Vicomte bought for her while living in Italy."

I saw Meg's hand still on the bolts of fabric she was caressing.

"I'll need five day dresses, Madame, and three evening gowns. I would like them to have interchangeable ribbons and lace so that I can have many uses with them."

"Oh, and she'll need gloves, shoes, and a few accessories!" Meg smiled mischievously and I knew that she was having a grand time helping me with my clothes. She unfurled a fan and held it over her mouth and batted her eye lashes, making a funny face as she did so.

I laughed so hard I had tears running down my face which sent Catherine into a frenzy as she was measuring my bust at the time. I quickly stifled my laughter but Meg kept casting me very suspicious looks. I watched as she flitted about the store looking at fabrics, shoes, and a few pieces of costume jewelry. Though at many times I thought she was like Elizabeth, I saw a side of her that was very much unlike my sister. I could see a pure look of envy on her face. I was sure that a ballet mistress salary didn't provide much in the way of finery. Meg was quiet as she walked about the store and I thought about ways that I could help her. I didn't have much, but one thing my mother had taught me was how to make a lot out of a little.

After my measurements, we talked over the fabrics and the general design. I believe that I shocked the elderly lady because I wanted dresses that had a bit more of a modest neckline and that did not have a lot of extra frills. We haggled a bit over price but in the end everyone was satisfied. I looked over the accessories that Meg pressed into my hands but told her that I Had very little need of anything extra, which surprised her. I could tell it was going to take her a little while to understand that not _all_ ladies of society wanted all the frills that life could bring. We decided on a close date for my clothes to be ready and Meg and I finished our business at _La Marguerite._

"We must go to this adorable _café_ by the Opera House!" Meg had looped her arm through mine and we set off back towards the Populaire. "Their food is so good and it will provide us with a quiet place to talk."

My ears perked up and I looked over at her, the sun playing nicely off her blonde curls. "What do you need to talk about?"

"The Opera Ghost," she whispered

'Oh, Meg!" I was exasperated. "There's no such things as ghosts!"

"Anne, if you're going to stay at the Populaire, then you have to know what's happened there. Granted, I don't know what happened _before_ or _how_ the Phantom arrived, but I can tell you what happened over the past few years."

"And why…"

"It's important!" Meg earnestly said. "You must know if you're going to stay. That way you have been warned!"

I watched Meg keep looking over her shoulder as we walked towards the café. I could see that she was serious about this _phantome_ however much I would try to dissuade her. As we entered the quaint building, the bell tinkled, and we were escorted to a quiet corner. We spent a few minutes in silence as we perused a menu and after we both ordered, and our food brought to us, Meg launched into her tale.


	7. A One Sided Tale

**Disclamer: No, I do not own Erik. ( i simply borrow him for my own purposes )**

**AN: Sorry for the long wait. It's all kind of up in the air and Anne all of a sudden decided to throw a bit of a tantrum. She's not usually one to get angry. Hopefully, this will mean the two will meet up very soon! R and R! 3**

* * *

Chapter 7

"Anne…do you believe in Heaven?" Meg asked.

"Yes," I readily replied. "But what does that have to do with your story?"

Meg didn't answer my question. "So…you believe in angels?"

"I believe that there are angels in heaven to watch over us and to protect us and to plead for us to God." I answered her patiently taking a sip of my onion soup. I still did not know what these questions had to do with this story she was beginning to tell me. I was soon to find out.

"The Phantom of the Opera has existed for as long as I can remember, but I guess you could say that the story really begins when Christine Daae first came to the Opera House. She's the same age as me so she was seven when she came. Her father, a brilliant violinist, had died and Mama brought her to live with us. Christine and I became fast friends and we learned ballet together.

"Christine's father had told her that when he had passed on, he would send the _Ange de la Musique_ to her."

"An Angel of Music?" I asked, bewildered and baffled.

"Yes. In the beginning Christine believed that this Angel had come to her and he taught her how to sing. She never sang in public and her lessons were always kept secret. But I always knew when she would have them. She got better and better and the years passed. And then…the day came that I don't think anyone will ever forget.

"We were in the middle of rehearsing _Hannibal_ and our new managers had arrived. Monsieurs Andre and Firmin watched our rehearsal and had asked Carlotta to sing an Aria from Act Three. It was entitled _Think of Me_ and as she was singing the backdrop crashed down on her."

I sat up straighter and my eyes widened in shock. "Just like…"

"Yes, just like your first day here. All attempts to calm her down failed and she stormed off in one of her iconic diva tantrums. She swore she wouldn't sing again the Populaire and Mama insisted that Christine Daae would sing the aria. And she did. She was so beautiful and so breathtaking that the managers immediately made her the diva. She went on to perform in the Opera that night and received a standing ovation." Meg stopped and I could see that she was lost in remembrance. "She was so beautiful in her white ball gown with crystals in her hair. She had all of Paris at her feet and could have accomplished so much."

I could sense sadness in her voice and although I could not completely understand her pain, I could empathize. I reached across the table and took her hand, not speaking as I tried to convey my support and friendship for her. Her eyes eventually lost the faraway look and then she returned her attention to me.

"She fell in love, however. An old childhood friend, the Vicomte de Chagny, came to that Opera and fell in love with her and she with him. Unfortunately for either of them, Christine's Angel of Music, who was really the Phantom of the Opera, had fallen in love with her and he lured her down to the depths of the Opera House.

"I do not know what happened, but she was soon brought back up the surface. It was the very next day as a matter of a fact. But by then, Carlotta had returned and the managers had persuaded her to return as the diva. The newest Opera, _Il Muto_, Christine was cast as the pageboy, a silent role, and Carlotta was the lead. This was against the phantom's wishes and during the middle an aria, Carlotta began to croak."

"Croak?" I whispered.

Meg nodded. "Like a frog. The crowd was alive with hysterical laughter and Christine then became the lead and Carlotta…well, she fled the stage and returned to her dressing room. The Phantom was behind it all and he was also furious because someone had taken his seat in Box 5."

I chose not to comment on how childish that sounded.

"While Christine was getting ready, Joseph Buquet a stage hand was killed. It was also rumored to have been the Phantom's fault. Joseph Buquet was not a well liked person and he had stumbled upon many of the Phantom's secrets. Pandemonium was unleashed when his body hung from the cat walk and all I know is that Christine and the Vicomte went to the roof. I assume that was where they proclaimed their love for each other. All I know for certain is that Christine and Raoul were inseparable for three months. Christine wore a beautiful engagement ring on a necklace she never took off. The Phantom didn't bother us for three whole months and then, on the night of a Masquerade Ball, he appeared. He was terrifying dressed all in red with a skeleton mask. He presented an opera he had personally written called _Don Juan Triumphant_. Christine was to play the lead, albeit begrudgingly.

"The Vicomte decided that it would be a perfect opportunity to capture the Phantom. The managers and cast were all aware of the plan, and there were guards hired to capture or kill the Phantom. What no one planned on, was the Phantom stepping in to play _Don Juan_ after Piangi, the lead tenor, had exited the stage. Christine and the Phantom sang this very sensuous duet but at the end of the piece, Christine tore away the Phantom's mask." Meg shivered and wrapped her arms around her stomach. "His face…it was hardly a face. I never heard such a cry of anguish and despair than what the Phantom uttered when Christine tore it away. The next thing any of us knew, the Phantom had kidnapped Christine, but not before he had released a chain that was connected to the chandelier."

"The chandelier caused the fire."

"Yes, but I'm afraid that's where my story ends."

"What?!" I felt as if the story had been half told. I felt as if there were more and I had only been told one side.

"I know that the Vicomte went down to the lair and that he came back with Christine. I followed the troupe down to the Phantom's lair, and all I found was his mask."

I leaned back in my chair trying to piece together what Meg had told me. "But…you still believe he's there."

"Oh, he's there. He's still living beneath the Opera House. He's still running the show."

"But…what about his crimes? Why doesn't anyone stop him?"

"Are you kidding? The man might be insane at times, but he's a genius. The Opera House flourishes underneath his control."

"But Meg…at what cost?"

"Very little now, Anne." Meg took a sip of her tea and dabbed her lips with a napkin. "What happened on your first day was an accident." Meg raised her hand and waved for the waiter to bring our ticket. "The Opera House is giving beautiful performances and nothing really bad happens anymore."

"Not until another _Christine_ shows up," I muttered.

"Well, there won't be another one like her again. She was an angel that touched our lives for such a brief time, and she's gone now."

I tried not to acknowledge the bitterness in Meg's voice and I waited until after our waiter had gone before I addressed it. "Have you heard from Christine since she got married?"

Meg shook her head. "I've gotten a few letters from her, but nothing of any great value. She just goes on and on about how wonderful her life is now that she's risen to a Vicomtesse."

The air got tight and we quickly settled the bill with waiter and I pulled Meg to her feet and we left the shop. We were silent for a few steps as I was mostly trying to gather my thoughts on how to approach the elephant in the room. Honestly, there was no way I could comfort her without being completely honest. I had a few very vivid opinions on all of this, but I knew that making hasty comments could come back to haunt me. We were back at the Opera House before I realized it and Meg was getting ready to go her own way.

"Meg…" I reached out and touched her arm. "Why don't you come back with me to my room? I gave Jane the day off, so I could use your company for a little while longer."

She begrudgingly gave her consent and we made our way back to my room, the only sound between us was the click of our shoes. I didn't know Meg that well, and we were really only just becoming better acquainted. Would my opinion be wanted? Would I end up driving her away without even trying to befriend her?

"_You cannot control what everyone does, Anne."_ My mother's voice rang loud in my ears. "_Worry about tomorrow when tomorrow becomes today. It'll come with its own problems so don't worry about those when you've got ones that already need to be dealt with._"

I opened my bedroom door and I guided Meg inside. She sat down on my bed and took off her hat and gloves. I took off my gloves and laid them on my vanity and then sat down next to Meg. I took her hands in mine and gazed into her blue green eyes.

"Meg, I don't know Christine. I don't know why she's not written you and has basically left you for fancy dresses and glittering jewels."

"Anne…don't." She tried to take her hands away but I wouldn't let her.

"No, listen to me. I know what it's like to put your faith in someone and then when circumstances change, they leave you flat. You can't spend all your time feeling bitter about it. You've got to move on with life. Be all you can be with the circumstances that have been dealt to you. Honestly, she can't be too much of an angel if she's treated her best friend this way."

"Anne!"

"And speaking of Angel!" I stood up and started pacing. "You expect me to believe that a _man_ is responsible for the rise and fall of the Populaire? You expect me to understand that the gendarmes have not gone down to his lair and arrested him if he's still there? A murderer? A criminal?! Meg it's complete madness and insanity! I can't believe you even feel safe in this place!"

"Anne be quiet! He'll hear you!" Meg rushed over and put her hands over my lips. "He has ears everywhere!"

"He is no more a phantom than I am." I whipped her hands off my face. "Running everything as if this was a puppet show instead of people's lives!"

"You don't know him, Anastasia. Don't pronounce an opinion on him!"

Meg and I whirled around and saw Madame Giry standing in my doorway.

* * *

_Vile girl! She had no idea who she was dealing with! _Erik stood behind the mirror and watched the scene unfold. How dare she speak of his angel in such a way! She knew nothing! She understood _nothing!_ Ever fiber in his being wanted him to shatter that mirror and wring her little throat. His hand had reached the lever to part the mirror when he saw Madame Giry standing in the doorway.

Blast that woman! Always getting in his way when he wanted to accomplish something.

"You don't know him, Anastasia. Don't pronounce an opinion on him!"

He saw the astonishment, fear, and a brief flash of anger cross Anne's face. Meg quickly picked up her few things and flew out of the room. Madame Giry closed the door and leaned against it looking at Anne.

"You would do well to remember Anne, that our Phantom does have ears in ever corner of this opera house.

"Your phantom is a man! A fallible human being!"

"Who is alone, Anne, with no family and no one to whom he can trust. Surely you know what that's like."

Erik watched as Anne seemed to freeze and then immediately lower her eyes. Madame Giry must have hit a nerve.

"But Christine…":

"Was a chance at salvation for him. Ugh, I told Meg not to tell you the story."

"Why?'

"Because you would not understand! Even I have a hard time to understand our Phantom's tale. So much has happened to him and the world has turned on him again and again. And when he had a chance at life, a chance to leave the terrible fate that he had no control over, he was thrown once again into darkness. With no _mother_ or _grandmother_ to save him."

Erik could not understand that underlying tones and messages that Madame Giry was sending to the young girl, but he could tell that Anne was trying to understand. She wouldn't, though. No one could ever understand or save him from his solitude and the hell that he lived in. He had tried to make one person see, and he failed.

"It still does not absolve him of his crimes, Aunt." Anne's voice was hard and cold. "I may have lived amongst the dregs of society, but I never…"

"Because you had family, Anne. He's had no one, but this opera house."

"There's a higher…"

"Power? Who do you mean, Anne? God? God has never been with our Phantom."

No…God never cared much for Erik. Prayers had never been whispered on his lips since he was a child. Prayers never stopped the beatings, or the cries of horror.

"Have some compassion, Anne. Your mother told me you had it in spades. Learn a little more before you judge, Anne." Madame Giry walked out of the room, slamming the door behind her. At first, Erik had no wanted stay any longer, but the tears on Anne's face stopped him.

"I don't…understand."

Erik couldn't help but feel a little smug at her tears. She had no right to judge him! She had no clue of the pain he had been through and how alone he felt. He had ever right to seek whatever consolation he could in what little light was gifted to him. As far as his Angel was concerned…would he do it all again if the had the chance? He had no regrets, and he would be damned if he let this woman change him. What Erik chose to ignore was that he was already damned.


	8. The Meeting

**Disclamer: No, I do not own Erik. ( i simply borrow him for my own purposes )**

**AN: Sorry for the long wait. Things have been a little crazy in the real world! But...after much anticipation, Anne and Erik finally meet! I hope it doesn't sound like a forced meeting or something. Hopefully the next chapter will have a little more of Erik's side. I'm quite interested to know what he has to say about all of this. Don't forget to give it a little R&R!**

* * *

Chapter 8

The number of the day was seven. I had been at the opera house for seven days. I had gotten lost numerous times as I had tried to rid my mind of the argument with Aunt Giry but I had finally learned my way around the bigger parts of the Populaire. I had not learned any more of what my Aunt expected me to understand.

"_Learn a little more before you judge, Anne._"

The words cut me like a knife. In a moment of anger at what I had no power to control I let my temper rise and I lashed out and said hurtful things of which I had no understanding. How many times had Mama rebuked me with soft words in order to calm me down after I cried out in anger during that terrible time? Too many times that I had lost count.

I had not been able to learn anything more about the mysterious Phantom as there was no one else I could really talk to who knew him. Apparently, aside from Meg and Aunt Giry everyone who worked here was quite unconnected with any facts of the Opera's history. Everyone believed in a ghost, not a man.

It was on that fateful seventh day that I discovered the chapel. I had yet to find a suitable place to pray quietly and I found the gothic looking stone room to be perfect. A tall stained glass window depicting an angel soldier provided the only light and there was a window seat beneath it. The room was short and narrow and on the right side of the room was a tall standing candelabra. I knelt before it and saw faded pictures of those who had been prayed for. The name _Gustave Daae_ stood out and I figured that was the name of Christine's father but what held my interested was when I saw the name _Maria de Sauveterre_ beneath a small picture of my mother.

"Aunt Giry must have found that this was the only way that she could help my mother," I whispered to the darkness. I quickly lit the small votive candle and said a soft prayer for my mother. I felt a great sense of peace and calmness knowing that my mother was being looked after by someone far better than any human physician. I might not be able to care for my mother in her last moments, but I was doing all I could being so far from her. But it didn't stop the tears from slipping from between my closed lids.

"Oh, Mama. Though I am surrounded by people and by family, I still feel lonely and wish that I could be with you. I wish things hadn't turned out this way, that you and I could spend our days in the country just like when I was little. We could run and play and have picnics and go horseback riding…" I stopped, suddenly realizing how I was sounding. "It's not that I'm ungrateful. Aunt Giry and Meg are very kind, but I do wish you were here."

"You spend a lot of time _wishing_ for things, mademoiselle."

The shriek that escaped my lips echoed in the chapel and, trying to standing up, I tripped on my skirt and fell back in a heap of fabric on the floor. At first I couldn't see anyone else standing in the room with me. The voice was that of a man, but what I saw at first resembled more of a shadow. And then, I saw it. The man shifted his weight just slightly, and the candlelight caught the white glow of a mask. Recognition became a brief moment of fear before I found my voice.

"You are the Phantom of the Opera," I whispered. It was not a question, more like a statement of fact.

The Phantom stepped forward and, surprisingly, gave a very gentlemanly bow. "A brilliant deduction, Mademoiselle."

I hadn't expected his voice to sound so soft. Oh, it was definitely laced with harshness and rudeness, but there was kindness there. "Might I ask what you're doing here?" I asked once I found my voice.

"I might ask _you_ the same thing."

"Praying," I answered quickly, rising up from the floor. "I shall probably find my way down here often now that mama is so close to her death." I looked away in an effort to hide my tears.

"What is her sickness?"

"Tuberculosis." The word was wrung from me as if I was admitting the defeat. "She has had it for some time, but they didn't tell me."

"They?"

"My mother, the doctor, my grandmamma." I wrapped my arms around myself trying to shut out the cold that had suddenly arrived in the room. I closed my eyes trying to stem the tide but found that a few tears escaped. I wiped them quickly way and apologized.

"There is no need to apologize."

I laughed and pulled out a handkerchief. I made haste trying to compose myself. "You'll think me silly crying like this." I stuffed my handkerchief back into the sleeve of my blouse and looked up at my masked companion. His white mask covered the left half of his face and I could barely make out his eyes in the dimly lit chapel. He wore a white shirt, black tuxedo, and a black cape that was drawn over his shoulders. His black hat was drown over his forehead and tilted slightly to the left. Despite his mask, it was easy to think him prodigiously handsome.

"You've still not answered my question, monsieur. Why are you here?" I put my hands behind me and waited patiently for his response.

"I came…to…um…introduce myself."

I couldn't tell which was more amusing: his explanation or the grasping he seemed to do in order to find his reasoning. "No letter, sealed with the infamous red skull? No warnings to stay away from the deepest darkest places of the Opera House? No reprimand for being in Box Five?" I tsked at him. "From all that I've heard, I am quite disappointed."

"Would you have preferred a note then?" Gone was the brief trace of kindness. His voice was icy cold and I feared I had offended him.

"Now, don't be cross with me. To be honest, I would prefer you do exactly as you choose. I can get a more ready opinion of you that way. I am sorry if you found me offensive. But, since we _are_ talking about introductions…" I wiped away the creases on the front of my gown, adjusted my hair so part of it fell over my shoulders and I cleared my throat.

"Good evening, monsieur. My name is Anastasia Maria Hillcrest." I dropped a very polite curtsy and folded my hands in front of me. "Of course, you don't have to tell me who you are."

"You obviously know already," was his sarcastic reply.

"True, but you don't think it a great paradox asking a masked man _who_ he is?" I laughed and I was amazed when he at least smiled at my attempt at humor.

"You are a strange girl, Mademoiselle Hillcrest."

I dropped another polite curtsy. "Thank you, monsieur. I will accept that as a compliment. But please, you must call me Anne. Everyone else does."

He didn't respond to the contrary or anything else. We were both standing there in the faint candlelight of the chapel, staring at each other. I found the Opera Ghost's eyes to be very intense and unnerving. I wasn't used to being stared at and I became very self conscious. I chewed on my lower lip and started fidgeting with my hair. It was a nasty habit that my grandmother had tried to rid me of. I stopped moving when I saw my dark companion step closer. I could feel my body freeze when I saw his hand reach up. I thought instantly of the tales that I had heard throughout the passing days.

_"if you see his face, he'll kill you!" _That was the one that rang prominently in my mind and my breath caught in my throat. I couldn't move and I couldn't breathe. I was standing in some sort of suspended animation waiting for something to happen. But his hand didn't settle on my throat in an attempt to kill me. He cupped my left cheek and I could feel the pad of his thumb run across my cheekbone, right beneath my right eye.

"I'm sorry, but, your eyes…"

"Oh, dear. Have they gone quite pale again?" I chuckled nervously trying to break the…the….whatever this was.

"Have they always been like that?"

"Do you mean have they always changed colors like that? Yes, for as long as I can remember."

"No," the word was whispered and I could feel his breath on my face. How was it that just one word could render me helpless and want to melt at the same time? "Have they always been filled with sorrow?"

I felt the moment break. My pain was mine to bear and I had let my defenses fall. He had seen me weak and helpless. I was usually the strong one, never letting anyone in. I placed my hand over his and whispered softly in the darkness. "I could ask the same of you."

I felt the change in him before I saw it in his eyes. He dropped his hand, his body stiffened, and his dark eyes turned cold, and hard. He stepped away from me and I felt the cold air hit my cheek from where his hand had rested.

"You are very direct, _Anne_."

"The effect of education, I suppose, but I am sorry to have upset you." I reached out and took his hand. "You don't have to tell me anything, nor do I expect you to. I have not right to the knowledge that I have…"

"And _what_ knowledge do you think you have?" He asked, ripping his hand away from me.

"I only know what Meg has told me."

He laughed at me. I had been laughed at many times, but this hurt. It was sardonic and patronizing, like he was making fun of me, and he didn't even know me. "You know a one sided tale, mademoiselle."

"I know that you have lost a great deal, and I can sympathize with that."

He gripped my upper arms and I thought he was going to ram me in the wall. I felt fear grip my body and I shrieked. "You have no idea what I have lost." He was angry, and I feared for my life. "You cannot know what she meant to me."

I shook my head, speaking only when I could form coherent sentences. "No, I cannot personally know, that is true. But I have seen first hand what that sort of love and devotion can do."

"HOW?! How could you possibly know?!" He threw me from him and I landed back on the floor. I was able to catch myself without sustaining any real damage.

"Anne?!" A third voice sounded in the darkness.

I looked to the doorway. Even the Phantom turned.

"Aunt!" I cried. I got up from the floor and ran to her. She embraced me in her arms and I felt as if she could protect me from this man. The fear melted from my body and I almost cried tears of relief.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to light a candle for mother…"

"Not you, Anne."

I looked up and saw that Aunt Giry was glaring at the Opera Ghost. If looks could kill, this would be one of those moments. It was then that I knew that these two had a history, that their knowledge of each other went farther back than the burning of the Opera House.

"Anne, I want you to return to your room. Don't tell anyone what's happened. I'll come and talk to you soon." She gave me a gentle push out of the chapel and I slowly made my way back to my room.

* * *

Madame Giry stepped back into the chapel and raised her candelabra higher, casting more light and even more shadows into the room. Her anger at Erik was violent and if she hadn't known him since they were children, she might have done considerable damage to him.

"I thought I told you to stay away from her," Madame Giry hissed.

Erik, who was still a little confused at the entire interlude that had passed. He could still feel her hand on his, could still feel her words pressing against his locked and cold heart. He looked down at his hand still feeling her warmth. She had not been afraid to touch him as so many had, but then, she did not see the monster beneath the mask.

"Erik!"

He was brought out of his reverie and saw Madame Giry looking as if she might kill him where he stood. It was an amusing sight and he sounded amused when he answered.

"She is a very amusing girl, Antoinette. I have never come across someone who can be so forthright and yet so timid in my life. She seems to be so full of contradictions and opinions. It's really quite astonishing. It's a shame that she should be so plain."

"Beauty of face does not always guarantee beauty of soul, Erik. Or have you forgotten that?'

His anger came back to the fore. "You forget yourself, Madame Giry!"

"Anne has known many sorrows in her short life."

He smirked. "I daresay she's not been pretty enough for some gentleman who married a girl worth 50,000 francs a year."

He had been waiting for it and then he heard it. There was a loud sob outside the chapel door and then hurried footsteps. He was right. Anne _had_ been listening out the chapel door.

Madame Giry was torn between going and staying. Though she wanted to go help her niece, she was not done giving Erik his set down. "I should have thought you would be a bit more sympathetic."

"I have lost all sympathy, Madame."

"Stay away from my niece, Erik. She has seen enough _ugliness_ to last a lifetime."


	9. Occupation

**Disclamer: No, I do not own Erik. ( i simply borrow him for my own purposes )**

**AN: Wow! Two chapters in one night! Whew! Bed time for me! Don't forget to give it a little R&R!**

* * *

Chapter 9

The first thing to go was his cloak when he had returned to the safety of his dungeon home. The white neck tie was soon to follow as well as the black tuxedo jacket. What had possessed him to step out from the sanctity of his darkness and step out into the light to see Anne up close? She was indeed ever much the contradiction he spoke of to Madame Giry. Quiet, timid one minute and the next teasing him at not sending him one of his "infamous notes" as was his apparent custom. There was something about this girl, that much was for certain. She seemed to have almost an ethereal quality with her ever changing eyes.

God, her eyes! He thought he was staring into ice when he saw them and then he had to go and make some ridiculous comment about how they were always sad. Leave it to her to turn the conversation back to him. Erik's anger rose in remembrance as she had, in vain, tried to make him believe that she could understand his pain, his loss.

"_No, I cannot personally know, that is true. But I have seen first hand what that sort of love and devotion can do._"

He hit the wall as hard as he could, not bothering to grimace in pain as it shot through his arm. How could such a naïve _girl_ know what true love did to someone? She couldn't be old enough to know. She had undoubtedly lived a life of riches, and wealth, and had everyone cooing over her and waiting on her ever whim. Her only misfortune in life was probably not being pretty enough for someone.

He smiled to himself. He was a man, and he was not going to deny that she was very pretty to look at. One might even dare to say that she was beautiful, especially in that soft candlelight which bounced off her unbound dark hair. And she was frail and lithe as his Christine had been, but a full grown woman who had curves enough to….

"NO!" He yelled to his prison. He swore when Christine left, taking his heart with her, that he would never love another! He had only his music now, and only his music would keep him alive and when it was done, he could rest forever, never having to worry about another human care again.

* * *

By the time Aunt had come to my room, my tears had all been dried up and I was sitting in the middle of my bed, my knees curled up underneath my chin. I thought back over the conversation I had heard and I bit back fresh tears. What had I expected the Phantom…no, Erik was his name…to say about me? That I was beautiful? That he _enjoyed_ his brief conversation with me?

I laughed at my foolishness and shook my head. I was quite stupid to think otherwise, but I couldn't help but think about our conversation with some great change of heart. I got out of bed and went to the floor length mirror. I stepped closer and touched my face in exactly the same place his hand had caressed my cheek. He was a man, but his eyes had looked just as sad as he had told me mine were. I knew now that I had only heard half of the story and I would have to ask him for the other half of the tale. Oh, I could probably ask Aunt Giry for the story and she might tell me, but if I wanted to know what made him the way he was now, I had to hear it from him. To try to understand from someone else would only give me glimpses at prejudices that I had already enough of.

But could I really go and see him again? His anger was so frightening and I hugged myself trying to keep the fear at bay. I could still hear his angry words ringing in my ears. I had never seen such passionate anger from anyone, even during that dark time. Of course, his anger was probably justified as I did seem like some innocent girl who had no more knowledge of the world than a new born babe. Even if he wanted to tell me his story, how would I find him? I couldn't just go walking amidst the darkest corners of the Opera House and hope to just bump into him….could I?

"Anne?" There was a soft knock at my door and I heard Aunt Giry's voice.

"Come in. It isn't locked." I moved away from the mirror and closer towards the door.

"You shouldn't have listened, Anne." She shut the door and sat the candelabra down and gave me pointed look.

"You are probably right, but I couldn't leave without hearing what you were going to say to him."

She smiled. "Were you worried that I wasn't going to defend your actions or give him a set down?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I didn't know what I was going to hear. To be honest, I didn't expect much of anything since I don't really know how things stand between the two of you." I raised my hand when she started to speak. "Nor, do I wish to know."

Aunt Giry tilted her head and gave me a look that I was not quite sure how to interpret. "You are a very strong woman, Anne. I don't mean physically, but in your mind. You're able to bear things. I was half afraid I would have to deal with a fainting fit."

I laughed. "No, I'm afraid _that_ would have been Elizabeth. I can handle things better than she can. I'm the oldest and have had to see things that she, fortunately, never had to see."

"Yes, I know that you've had a hard time of life, Anne, but don't you think it's time to find you something to fill up your days? To help get you away from your past and to help forge your future?" Aunt Giry stepped forward and guided me back to the bed. We sat down together and she took my hands in hers.

"I would like some sort of occupation, Aunt. I'm not really fit for anything too fine. Remember, I spent most of my early days doing cleaning and the such."

"What about picking up your music, Anne? Your mother says that you play very well."

I thought about it. It would be nice to play again. To feel the passion that came when playing and to create a scene with only music, would be wonderful. "Yes, Aunt. I think I shoud like that."

"Well, Anne, our Prima Donna who at rehearsal tomorrow morning, needs an accompanist at her private home. You would still live here, of course, but perhaps you could go and play for her when we are not working on the main scenes. She has already got her songs _Le Nozze di Figaro_ memorized, so it would just be other things that she enjoys singing. I know she is getting ready for a concert after the opera has finished, so you would be invaluable to her."

"I should like that Aunt!" I jumped up and went to the chest at the foot of my bed. I rummaged through it, pulling out pieces of music that I had cherished for years. "I should probably go an practice! Oh….but I don't have an instrument."

Aunt Giry smiled. "You just leave to me, Anne. But of course, you would be paid for your assistance."

"That is very kind, but don't think that we should speak to Diva Carrolton first?"

"I have already taken that liberty, Anne. I hope you don't mind."

"No, of course not!" I held the music close to my chest.

"Good!" Aunt Giry stood and took my hands again. "I also took the liberty of telling her that you would come by tonight and to take tea with her."

I gasped. "Aunt, I really couldn't. I know I'm bound to say something…"

She laughed. "No, no, Anne. I'll be there with you and it'll be alright. She just wants to meet you and to hear you play a little."

"But I haven't practiced in months!"

"She won't mind that, Anne. Now, I need you to get ready dressed. Jane should be on her way up and we'll be leaving at six o'clock sharp." Without another word, she picked up the candelabra and whisked out the door.

It was then, in the still light of my room that I realized what had happened. Yes, I was to be an accompanist and to get the chance to play again and to, maybe, secretly, learn a few singing techniques from this renounced singer, but Aunt Giry had done something that I had not seen until that moment. She had found a way for me to get out of the Opera and after meeting the Opera Ghost…I wasn't sure that was such a good idea. A part of me was glad to get out of the confined bedroom quarters and out of the dark Opera House and to be in the sunshine doing something I loved. But another part of me, and I didn't really know how great that part was, wanted to stay and to get to know Erik better.

Because, really, if a person loved music as much as Meg had led me to believe, could he really be that bad of a person?

* * *

_There is this strange enigma of a person here called "The Opera Ghost" or "The Phantom of the Opera. Mama, I can't really say whether or not they are telling the truth, but it is quite strange. I heard people whispersing about this phantom when the backdrop fell, and I heard a strange voice when I was leaving Box 5. Now please do not think I have taken leave of my senses, for I assure you that it is all quite true! I don't know what to think about this._

_ Aunt Giry and Meg are very good to me and I have every confidence in making Meg a close friend and to helping her as you and dear Aunt are quite wanting me to do. I know I can't say "get better" because we know that it shan't happen. But I will close with my love and my prayers for you to see our Maker soon and without no pain._

_All My Love,_

_ Anastasia Hillcrest_

Maria folded the letter back up and looked out the window from where she sat in her wooden rocking chair. Yes, her time was fast coming to an end, but it was now she feared sending Anne to Paris. With Anne's love and talent for music, there was no doubt that she would have met the infamous Opera Ghost. Maria had seen his shadows before she had left the ballet corp. Antoinette had been silly bringing him in, but it was a good deed that did not deserve to go unnoticed.

Maria had a plan when sending Anne to Paris. Yes, she would find love, but would she actually recognize it when she saw it? After all, we don't always see what we are meant to see until it was almost too late. But Maria would not live to see Anne's wedding. She would be lucky if she lived another month.

So, she slowly stood and walked over to her writing desk. She would pen a long letter back to her daughter, and then begin one to Elizabeth. She had always regretted never being as close to Elizabeth as she was to Anne. It was a pity that most people don't think too seriously about things until it was too late.


	10. Practice Makes Perfect

**Disclamer: No, I do not own Erik. ( i simply borrow him for my own purposes )**

**AN: I am sorry it's taken so long to update. I've been really sick for these past three weeks. Slowly getting better! Please pardon Chapters 10 and 11 as I'm afraid they don't really further on the relationship between Anne and Erik. Have to get through the beginning before we can get to the good stuff! Black ribbon roses for all who review! **

* * *

Practice Makes Perfect

"So, what do you think of our Prima Donna?"

Aunt Giry was sitting across from me as the carriage made its way back to the Opera Populaire. Tea with Madame Carrolton had been marvelous. I had never met someone so well poised and eloquent yet so vivacious and effervescent at the same time. She was trained in all manners of society as well as in her vocal training. She hadn't lived the life of a nun, simply staying inside and singing and practicing all day and all evening. She had been from a rich family that supported the arts and had pleased her entire family when her talents in music became so apparent that there was no possible way to keep them hidden.

"I think she's wonderful," I replied.

"She's a very good person too. Madame Carrolton has donated much of her time and money to supporting the Opera House. Her family was mostly involved with the rebuilding of the Populaire after the fire."

There was an uncomfortable silence in the carriage. The fire was something that occurred because of the Opera Ghost…or Erik as I was now determined to call him. It was correct to call something or someone by the proper name. I wanted to ask her about Erik, but I couldn't find the words.

"Why did you listen to the conversation, Anastasia?"

I looked out the window trying not to be too curious in what was going on outside the carriage. "I don't know. I guess it was merely out of curiosity. That enigma of a man was and is such a strange person that I couldn't help listening to him, regardless of what he said." I smiled and gave her a look that let her know I heard everything he said about me.

"And you're not worried or upset about what he said about you?"

"That's more of Elizabeth's style. I stopped caring long ago what people say about me. I can't waste that sort of time in life. It's precious to all of us."

"Your mother's illness has taken its toll on you hasn't it."

I felt tears prick my eyes. "It's certainly been an eye opening experience. Mama would sometimes talk about the things that she would have done differently with her life, but she would always say that she had no regrets. She told me that she was happy with the choices she made and that she could stand before God with a clean conscience."

"Very few can make such a claim."

I smiled and dabbed at my eyes. "Yes."

"You are not going to ask me to tell you his story, are you?" Aunt Giry as we pulled to a stop in front of the Populaire.

"No, I'm not." I placed my hand in the driver's extended hand as he assisted me from the carriage. "I think I've learned my lesson in making rash judgments on a story half told." I smiled at her as she too alighted from the carriage. "So, as much as I want to hear you tell me his story, I think I'll wait till I can ask the gentleman himself."

Aunt Giry was very quiet and she seemed to almost make a point to watch the carriage leave the Opera House, returning to the stables. "I think that will be very near impossible, Anne. He is not a very talkative person." She looped her arm through mine and we made our way inside using one of the side entrances.

"Really, Aunt? He was quite certain to tell me exactly what he thought earlier today." I grimaced in remembrance.

"He's not all bad, Anne."

"Yes, I have no doubt that there is good in him." I cut her off. "There's good in everyone. It's how we choose to act on it that defines us."

We were silent through the remainder of the walk inside. My evening with Vanessa Carrolton seemed marred by Aunt bringing up this morning's earlier events. I didn't want to talk about my argument with Erik as it reminded me very much of my greater faults that Mama had tried so hard to correct. I wanted to focus on something that held promise and the idea of days filled with more than just mulling over whether or not Mama was still alive.

"When does the show open, Aunt?" I asked, coming to a halt in front of my bedroom door.

"Next week. So, I'm afraid Madame Carrolton will not need you until the show ends. That should give you some time to rehearse and to work your skills back up."

I nodded, grateful that she seemed to return the conversation to something a little less controversial. I had a feeling that for some time our views on Erik might differ. "Is there a piano that I could practice on?"

"You can use the one that's used for early rehearsals, Anne. It's always moved off stage in the morning but it's put back on during the night."

"Why? Pianos are so expensive and if something should happen to it…"

"Well, it is a risk some are willing to make but to not be able to have some way to practice; well I think that's a risk not many are willing to make. You will be surprised how quickly you'll be asked to help some of the other girls with their work. Pianists are very rare in the Opera House."

"I can imagine. Pianists would not have much of a use since the music is played by an orchestra."

Aunt Giry smiled and patted my cheek. "Precisely. Well, I won't keep you up any longer. I am pretty sure the piano is out on the stage now if you would like to practice. Since we're so close to performance, no one should need it right now. Just make sure Jane goes with you."

"Jane?"

"Well, it's always good to walk around the Populaire with someone. It's easier to find you if we know you went missing."

"I've already met Erik…so you can't expect me to be in any sort of danger now."

Aunt Giry didn't say anything but she gave me a look that made me feel that I was not necessarily in danger but rather in some hot water with the Phantom. "I'll see you in the morning, Anne?"

"Yes, Aunt. I think I'll turn in now anyway, so good night."

She gave me a kiss on the cheek and I departed into my room. I leaned against the closed door and waited for her footsteps to recede down the hall. I quickly threw off my evening gown and put on one of the outfits procured for me by Aunt Giry. It was a plain black skirt and white blouse which made it far easier to practice in than something that had all of those laces and bindings.

I picked up my music from where I had placed it earlier and made my way back out of the room. I kept my footsteps light and quick as I hastened to the stage. Sure enough, the piano was out in the middle of the stage next to a solitary light. I had always heard of a "ghost light" which is said to keep away the spirits of the theatre but I found it sort of strange that a theatre such as this would keep a candle lit after the fire. And I seriously doubted that Erik needed any sort of help to see in the dark.

I hesitantly made my way to the piano, fearing that someone was going to jump out of the shadows or ask what I was doing out so late on the Opera's stage. I had never had any great desire to sing on the stage, but to play was a thrill I could never seem to calm. At home, Mama always said that I had a gift that just needed to be shared. But she was always referring to "my gift" as if it had a mind of its own. As if it was something that I, at times, could not control and had no power over.

I looked around to see if anyone was near, but as the only light was from the stage, I couldn't see anything and my eyes hadn't quite adjusted to the dark yet. I placed my music on the piano, scooted out the bench, and sat down. For a moment, I simply stared at the keys, with my hands in the lap. Then, ever so gently, I raised my fingers to the keys and pressed down a D minor chord, a personal favorite. I played an arpeggio just to get an idea of who the keys responded to touch. It was a well-played instrument so I was delighted to find the touch to be feather light. It required very little effort to create a full sound.

Without realizing it, my fingers had taken to playing Mozart's _Alla Turca_, followed quickly by his _Sonata in C Major._ I could play these pieces in my sleep and I had practiced them for hours when I was younger. Father had been very clear on his view of my technique, so they were now flawless and memory returned like an old friend. As one piece flowed into the next, my mind wandered back to happier times when all the family was together. Papa would sing, and Mama would play as I danced around the room, Elizabeth tottering along as well as she could. Papa's tenor voice was not classically trained but he could sing a melody and would make-up silly little songs that would send me into gales of laughter. Eventually, Mama would play and Papa would pick me up and we would dance and dance until it was late into the evening. I was Papa's "little starling" and Elizabeth was "little angel" and there were no tears. There was no debt, no fear, and no wondering what tomorrow would bring, for we were too occupied with the present.

I had made my way into a piece by Beethoven when I heard a noise behind me. I was too involved in my reverie and to be suddenly dropped into reality brought a scream from my lips and my fingers to pull away from the keys as if they had suddenly burst into flame. I was off the piano bench in a flash and looking around to see where the noise had come from.

"Who's there?" I demanded, feeling a little foolish to be addressing the darkness. My heart pounded at the thought of seeing the Phantom again so soon. But there was no answer to my cry. "Don't cower in the darkness, answer me! Who are you and what are you doing here?"

"I should very well be asking you that question, mademoiselle."

My fingers gripped the piano and fear struck me cold.


	11. Impropriety Amidst Ivories

**Disclamer: No, I do not own Erik. ( i simply borrow him for my own purposes )**

**AN: Voila!**

* * *

Impropriety Amidst Ivories

But it was not the Phantom! It wasn't even one of the managers! My tense muscles relaxed and the blood started to flow in my veins again. I leaned against the upright piano and sighed. The person who had scared me started to laugh and annoyance pricked at me. I glared at the man who had decided to step into the glow of the ghost light. Recognition slowly made its way into my mind but I couldn't place the person who stood before me.

"You take pleasure in sneaking up on people, do you?'

He stopped laughing but a smile did stay on his face. "Come on now, you have to admit it was pretty funny."

I crossed my arms. "I don't think so."

"I suppose you thought I was the Opera Ghost?" He laughed which prevented from seeing my panic.

"Well, it's a natural thought, when one is by themselves," I snapped when I had gotten my voice under control.

"I don't think we've been introduced. My name is Michel Faucher."

"Faucher?" My eyes widened and recognition clicked. "You're the person responsible for the backdrop falling last week!"

He raised his hands in defense. "I was not responsible! I had all the ties securely fastened."

"Mm-hmm." I made my way past him, walking slowly so my eyes could adjust to the darkness. But he was quick to follow me.

"Mind if I walk you back to your room…um….what's your name, again?"

"Hillcrest," I replied, continuing to walk away. "Anne Hillcrest."

"Enchanted, Mlle Hillcrest." He hopped in front of me, took off his cap and bowed.

I nodded back at him, still keeping silent.

"You're not upset about me coming up and scaring you are you?"

I sighed. "No, I suppose not. But I do not like it when people interrupt me while I'm practicing."

"Practicing?" He asked, apparently determined to see me to my room as we made our way out of the stage area and towards the Prima Donna's room. "It seemed like you were performing out there. I haven't seen someone tear up the piano like that in a while."

"Then you haven't seen people play quite often. There are far better pianists than me. I play what I like, because I like it. I'm nothing compared to the composers who wrote those pieces."

"Don't sell yourself short. You've got a real gift. You were so happy while you were playing. You seemed at peace and you looked as if you hadn't a care in the world. You looked a lot different than the first time I saw you."

"Oh, really?"

"You looked so sad and lonely the when I saw you from the rafters."

"And do you spy on every new person who comes to the Opera House?"

"Just the pretty ones." He smiled but I was not fazed.

"You shouldn't tell lies, M. Faucher." We had reached my room and I turned to him. "Now, you will kindly see yourself as far away from me within the next five seconds. I am tired and retiring for the night."

"And should I refuse?" He leaned in close and my hand made a sharp smack across his face.

"I'll be speaking to the managers first thing in the morning about your improper conduct!"

He laughed at me and it was all I could do not to slap him again. "Ah, but you're in Paris now. 'Improper conduct' is far different here than it is back in England. Here, everyone lives by pretty words and tender caresses."

I opened my door and stepped in. Before slamming the door in his face, I turned back. "Well then, isn't it such a wonder that I am not 'everyone?'" I slammed the door shut and quickly fastened the bolt.

* * *

Despite seeing Anne and that Faucher leave the stage, and knowing the stage hand's reputation for inappropriate advances, Erik was still in Box 5. Restless and unable to compose anything half decent, he made a round of the Opera House when he heard someone playing on the piano. Curious more than anything else, he leaned over the banister of Box 5 not worrying about anyone seeing him as the on light came from the solitary candle on stage. The piano _was_ occupied but it was Anne seated there! Several times he had heard music coming from the stage but that had usually been a few overzealous chorus girls who wanted to take advantage of the fact that no one was present so they sang, or at least attempted to sing, lead parts and giggle about when they thought no one was looking.

Anne's playing, however, was like a sudden breath of fresh air that he had no idea he was missing. The smile that played across her lips and the peace settled across her face was unlike anything he had seen before. When people played from memory as she was doing, it was always done with such a fierce countenance due to their concentration to not mess up. She seemed to play from the soul and to let the music take on a life of its own. Her technique was fair, but it was the effortless playing that caught him off guard. It was rare for him to hear anyone that seemed to play just because it was something they did naturally…not because it was something they learned. Her hands seemed to glide across the keys and the ivories had a mind of their own playing, all on their own.

When the music was interrupted, Erik was unceremoniously dropped back to reality. She _was _a woman of surprises and of contradictions. What was she really like? After watching the two down below he could tell she was not a woman easily swayed or easily flattered, and the change in her was drastic. Gone was the peaceful girl who had not a care in the world and replaced was the person he had met earlier, sorrow etched in her face like marble.

"_She has seen enough _ugliness_ to last a lifetime_." Giry's words from earlier sounded in his ears and seeing that change happen so sudden made him second guess his earlier comments and accusations. But surely such travesties could not happen to someone who was not cursed with his own hideous face. She possessed every ounce of distinction that came from someone who was raised at the top of society and should have every door open to them. Why, then, was she here in the Opera House, instead of enjoying a season with the rest of the fashionable world?

* * *

"Honestly, Anne, you're being quite ridiculous!"

I ran the brush through my hair attempting to get all of the tangles out. I had had another restless night and my hair had sufferrerd from it, as always. "Aunt, he was being too forward! I thought he was going to kiss me or something!"

"You shouldn't take Faucher seriously, dear. He's always been a bit of a ladies man."

I dropped the brush on the vanity and turned to face my Aunt. "Well, then you will pardon me if I treat him as any proper lady should when faced with such impropriety."

She laughed and helped me up from the seat. "Oh, I have no problem with you boxing his ears should he deserve it, but you're in an Opera House, Anne. People don't take too much pride in their…virtue."

I colored a little for it was a subject not commently addressed when I was with my mother. "Yes, well, I can't be expected to lower my standards, Aunt. Not for anyone and especially not for a man like Faucher."

"No one's asking you to. But if you had heeded my advice and waited until Jane could accompany you, you might not have to have dealt with him."

"I couldn't ask Jane to go with me, when she should be resting." I withdrew my hands from her and began getting dressed. I was glad that I could forego the usual attire of a morning dress and my new clothes would be finished soon. But even with the new clothes, I was probably going to continue wearing the plain skirts and button up blouses for quite some time. They were far more comfortable than the buttons and bows and frills of the more society appropriate dresses.

"All the same, did you enjoy you practice?"

I smiled. "Oh, Aunt, I had forgotten what really playing felt like. I was so used to practicing scales and technical work for my teacher that to just have the opportunity to sit down and play something because I liked it…well, it was a great relief."

"And it was just Faucher that was there? No one else?"

I heard the unspoken question. "You mean, was the Phantom there? I don't think so. It was so dark I couldn't really see, and I doubt my playing would have entranced him. He tends to falls for beautiful singers. And I am neither beautiful or a singer."

"Anne!"

"Well, it's true! And don't you try to convince me otherwise!" I laughed and sat down to work on my hair. I studied my reflection finding the usual faults with it. "No manner of style or make-up is going to change my lack of beauty."

"You're only saying that because that's what your Grandmother drilled into you to keep you from upstaging Elizabeth."

"Not true," I replied, pulling back my hair and securing it back with two plain combs. However, I couldn't help a flicker of truth cross my mind at her words.

"_You'll never be as beautiful as your sister, Anne. You must do everything in your power to make sure that your sister marries well. Turn down all proposals, not that you'll have any to worry about, and let your sister take care of everything._"

"Your mother thought you beautiful. She told me so every time she wrote me."

"She wrote to you?" I turned to face her. "She never told me!'

"Did she need to?" Aunt Giry smiled and knelt down next to me. She took my face in her hands and brushed a few stray curls away from my face. "She told me how your eyes reminded her of a clear sky that had no sign of clouds. She told me that your smile could light up an entire room. But she would also tell me of your pure heart and mind. Of your good heart and kindness."

My eyes misted over and I looked away. I missed her so much and it seemed so unfair to be apart from her.

"It is true that life has not been kind to you, and you did not have the opportunities that seem to be so imporrtant to Elizabeth. But you have opportunities here and now that are important to you. Would you have cared for a season in town, surrounded by all the best in eligible bachelors?"

I laughed and wiped at my eyes. "Certainly not!"

"Instead, you are here, where your passion for music and art and literature can be heightened. You are where you need to be and you are surrounded by what is important to you."

I thought for a moment. It was true what she said. Music had been my life since I was a little girl and here I was at one of the greatest centers for music and entertainment right at my fingertips. I may not be able to be out on stage, but I could learn so much from being here. I was where I was supposed to be.

"Feel better?"

I smiled and wrapped my arms around her. "Thank you, Aunt Giry."

She patted my back. "Anytime, my dear. Anytime."


	12. In the Summertime

**Disclaimer: No, I do not own Erik. He is simply borrowed for my own purposes. ~evil laugh~**

**AN: This is probably my longest chapter to date but that's because I knew how I wanted to end it. Thank you for all the reviews and comments, especially about Anne's treatment and about Elizabeth. The two have a very interesting dynamic which will be fun to write about. Kudos to Obsessive Compulsive Fangirlr for finding my "V for Vendetta" quote. :) I'll try to have at least two more chapters up before the end of October, but I will say that my writing won't be so up to date as I will be participating in Nanowrimo starting November 1st. And with that: On With The Show! Black ribbon roses for the R&R**

* * *

In the Summertime

Two months had come and gone. My dresses from _La Marguerite_ had arrived and they were placed in the back of the wardrobe to be worn only when I had to mingle with society, which was never often. Meg and I went out once a week to see the city and to have a nice lunch and for her to giggle or complain, which ever suited her fancy. _Le Nozze di Figaro_, surprisingly, turned out to be a huge success, selling out every single performance. It ran for three weeks, earning more money than I'm sure anyone could have ever hoped, or dreamed. The spring season was now officially over and the Populaire was closed for the summer. My days were not filled with empty idleness. I was taken to Madame Carrolton's home every day, for two hours where she would have a lesson with her teacher and I would accompany her.

I found those lessons to be very enlightening, since I had never had a private teacher to assist me in studying voice. The man was very knowledgeable in how the voice worked and how to make sure Mme Carrolton would not strain her voice. We mostly spent time working on Italian arias, but still adding some French _mélodie_ as well as German _lied_. I had no idea that she was so well versed in languages and it did truly seem that she had a marvelous gift.

When her lessons were over and her teacher dismissed, I stayed for afternoon tea where I listened to her talk about whatever pleased her. She usually rambled on about the latest Parisian gossip, who was seeing who and what the latest scandals were amidst the aristocracy. She talked about ribbons and lace, and sometimes she talked about her life as a child…her life before the Opera House. That was what I enjoyed hearing the most. Elizabeth was sure to love all talks about fashion and gossip, but I enjoyed hearing about people's lives and how their past occurrences formed them into the people they were today.

"My father was Sir Carrolton and my mother was Lady Elaina. My father was knighted for writing a beautiful collection of poetry for the queen and her daughters." She sipped her tea and looked out the window and the afternoon sunlight played off her short blonde hair. One thing I couldn't understand about her was why she kept her hair so short. It barely touched her shoulders, but she always said it was because of all the wigs she wore. It was awful trying to keep up all the hair in a wig cap so she just kept it short.

"Did you live in the country?" I asked, taking a small bite of a pastry.

"Yes, I did. I am the middle child of seven, and I was the only one who didn't want to practice archery, or learn how to ride a horse, or learn how to take care of a household. I wanted to sing! I was quite fortunate that Mama and Papa let me. Most families aren't so accommodating."

I shook my head. "No, they are not."

She never pressed me about my life. I assumed it was because she didn't care to know or because she was too wrapped up in her own life to even care. However, as time passed I saw it was because she was waiting for me to open up the flood gates and share with her the story of my life. I smiled, knowing that she was going to wait a long, long time. Very few knew the truth, and I intended it to stay that way.

I usually stayed about an hour with her and then the carriage took me home. Whereupon I practiced, since the stage was now habitually lit during the earlier hours of the day and I played on the piano until someone, usually Michel Faucher, came along. He had started taking an unusual habit of following me around and saying the most ridiculous things. I had never been one for flattery since it was usually falsely based and I watched enough of Faucher to know that his sweet words were used on every girl in the Opera House.

Strangely, I had not seen the Opera Ghost during those two months. When _Le Nozze di Figaro_ was a huge success, everyone said a small "thank you" to the Phantom who apparently had no problems at all with the performances. If anything had happened that he did not like, well, I had heard enough about previous catastrophes to understand that he would let us know if something was displeasing. Each performance was smooth and perfect with not a single problem.

My summer was fairly uneventful. And while I kept myself busy with lessons and practicing, I knew that Elizabeth would have graduated from her boarding school, and would be making her entrance into society. I knew her debut would be an entirely different occasion than mine. Elizabeth, being ever as beautiful as Mama, would have suitors lined up for just a glimpse of her attention and would be waiting to shower gifts upon her. It was very well assumed that she would have found herself a suitable husband by the end of her first season. He would obviously be titled, with lands, fortune, and a lineage nearly as old as England itself. And of course he would be handsome with a visage that would rival the Greek gods themselves.

I had not had a letter from Mama the entire summer, and I grew exceedingly worried. I cried, knowing she was so ill she couldn't write, but I wrote her as often as I could. I usually stopped by the post to drop off the latest letter filled with almost meaningless prattle of the comings and goings of my life. I told her of my meeting with the Phantom and of my rehearsals with Madame Carrolton and of the Opera House and I always sent Aunt Giry and Meg's love and well wishes. I never received a reply and I worried almost to the point of being sick, but I knew that someone would send me news if she had died. I went almost every day to the chapel and prayed for Mama. I lit a candle and stayed for nearly an hour just praying and thinking over my years with her. How full of life she was, and how beaten down she had become due to circumstances. She tried her best to never let me see it, but I was old enough to know. I grew up quickly, Mama always thought _too_ quickly.

When I went to the chapel and had only the light of the candelabra, I couldn't help but think of my first meeting with Erik. How terrified I had been, how terrified I still was, seeing him. And yet, I felt an uncanny feeling now, as if I had seen him before, or at least heard of him, and couldn't place him. Looking back on it now, I reacted hastily and probably said things I shouldn't. Who was I to speak of things of which I had no understanding?

"I wish I could apologize," I whispered to the empty room. "I wish I could take back what I said and start again. But we never get second chances at life." I stared at the portrait of mother and lightly ran my fingers over her face, dimly lit by the solitary candle. "We must play with the cards we are dealt and in the end surprise them all with the winning hand."

"How very true." The voice echoed in the faintly lit room and I felt chills creep down my arms.

"You're here aren't you? The Phantom of the Opera?" I stood up from my crouched position looking around the room, trying to see him but failing to do so.

"Yes."

"Please, show yourself. I'll think myself going mad if I'm addressing only the empty space around me." I was looking towards the stained glass window and when I turned around to face the doorway he was there! I screamed and quickly put a hand over my mouth.

"I have that effect on people."

I tried not to pay attention to how pained that sounded. "I'm sorry. You just startled me that's all. Come into the light, please. There's no point hiding in the darkness."

"It's all I've done my whole life. Why should now be any different?"

"I can't apologize if you're going to be in the shadows."

"And why, pray tell, should you apologize?"

I tried not to smile as he did step further into the candlelight. "For my words at our last meeting. I had no right to speak about things I had no understanding of."

I was surprised to find him laugh at my comment.

"And why is that funny?"

* * *

"You're going to apologize now for something you said nearly three months ago?" Erik was highly amused but he was strangely confused as to why she should feel any need to apologize since he, too, had been brusque during their first encounter. But it gave him satisfaction nonetheless. She had been too forthright in her comments and in the way she acted. Conscience pricked at him as he should be also addressing that at himself.

"I would have apologized earlier had I found some way to see you or at least communicate with you. I have had more than one reminder on staying away from trap doors and dark corridors. And I didn't want anyone to think I had lost my mind by addressing the dark calling for you."

Erik was silent, unsure of how to proceed with the reason he had come to see her. Since the Opera House had closed for the season, he had found himself able to compose again. It was nothing on the scale of _Don Juan_ but he was able to find solace in his music again. It was able to bring him peace…but never happiness. That was something forever out of his reach. Every time Anne had played, he had watched her. He saw the change every time she played. Every time she talked about music, which was never often, her entire countenance would change and she would appear almost as if she were another person. But reality would always return when the subject was closed or when someone interrupted her.

Erik had wanted to find out more about her, but Madame Giry was as silent as a tomb when it came to Anne and the young woman never talked about herself. She always found a way to sidestep every question when it came to her family or to what her life was like before she went to stay with her Grandmother. What tied her to music? What made her look as if she were a thousand miles away just by caressing the black and white ivory keys? Even Christine couldn't make him wonder such things, and she had been his _Ange de la Musique_.

"Are you alright?"

How had she gotten so close? She was standing less than two feet from him and her clear blue eyes were unreadable.

"What would make you ask such a question?"

"Curiosity and pain flashed across your face and I wondered if everything was alright?"

Sympathy for a monster like him? Doubtful. "I was merely curious about your ability to play. You seem very talented for someone so young."

He watched the drastic change from sympathetic to defensive. She placed her hands on her hips and she tossed back her head. "I'm twenty-five, and I studied very hard."

"Yes, your technique is good, but I'm talking about more than just that. I'm talking about talent. A person can play scales, arpeggios and all the Bach Inventions they want until their fingers bleed and be technically perfect, but you possess more than that."

"Flattery will get you know where."

"You see, that's an evasion to my statement. I should know, I'm quite good at that." Erik crossed his arms and tried to stop the twitch of his lips from becoming a smile. "I'm talking about pure and raw talent, not flattery to some ridiculous ego."

"I suppose I should thank you for your compliment, as you are quite an accomplished and talented musician yourself."

He bowed in response.

Anne sighed and rubbed her temples. "All I will tell you, is that music has been a part of me since I was very little. When I was able to study and practice on more regular basis I cannot help but let myself wander back to a time when things were very different in my life…when things were a lot happier. That is all I will say on the subject."

"And when you were able to study…what caught you interest?"

"Privately with my tutor it was mostly Bach Inventions." She smiled. "And at times I did think my fingers would bleed. He was so concerned about my technique since I had a tendency to show too much emotion in my playing. So, it was all technical work when he was around and for the time that I had to myself, well, it was lyrical airs and passionate melodies that would have shocked my Grandmother had she known." She laughed and Erik was immediately transfixed by the alteration it did to her face. Everything changed when she talked about music and it was bewildering to see it.

"Do you sing as well? I am told that most pianists often do." He couldn't understand where the question came from and he immediately wished he could take it back. The fear that flashed across his face unnerved him.

"N-no. I do not sing. Not anymore."

"But you did once?"

"Please…I…I don't want to talk about it anymore." She wrapped her arms around herself and walked towards the stained glass window. "_That_ chapter of my life is closed. I do not sing anymore. And that is all you need to know."

Erik was silent, curious and confused. "I'm sorry to have offended you. I assure you that it was not my intent."

She gave a shaky laugh and he could see her push whatever unpleasant memory in her head away. Hadn't he done that same thing often enough. "It isn't your fault and I'm not offended." She pushed back her hair and turned back to face him. "So…you have been watching me?"

He bowed. "My apologies."

She shook her head. "Unnecessary. I know when I'm being watched. Although, it would be a little less unnerving if you could at least let me know you're there."

"I shall try to do better." He smiled, wondering where this unusual repartee was coming from. "Do you have a tutor now?"

"No, I do not. I do not like being hounded on my technical work when that is not how I view music."

"Would you care to have one again?"

"Are you offering?"

Such forthright manner! She's impudent when she wants to be and can stand on her own, but there is a vulnerability about her.

"And what would you want in return, Erik?"

He stilled.

"Don't sound so surprised that I know your name. You know very well I was listening when you talked with my Aunt."

"I'm…"

"Don't say it. Apologies are unnecessary as I should really learn not to eavesdrop."

He bowed again. "What are you proposing to give me in exchange?"

She thought for a moment. "Well, I know you couldn't possibly want my money as you request 20,000 francs a month from the managers." She chewed on her lip for a moment apparently toying with some idea in her head. "How about…my time?"

Erik blinked. "Pardon me?"

She smiled and wrung her hands. "I know you cannot possibly be happy where you live, and it's undoubtedly very lonely, so I propose that what I give you is some companionship and my time."

She was a strange girl. "Pity I do not need, mademoiselle."

"I'm not giving you pity. I'm just stating a fact." She held out her hand to him. "Deal? We can work out the finer points of the arrangement later."

Her smile was unreadable. Her eyes held no trace of a lie. He was lonely in his own private little Hell. But she seemed different from his Christine. Anne apparently _wanted_ to spend time with him and to be around him. Was it a glimpse of sunshine in his ever dark days?

He sighed and grasped her hand. "Very well."

"Good." She smiled and Erik immediately wondered what he had gotten himself into and who was actually helping the other. Anne had a talent that was not something she learned and that needed to be honed and refined and she would make a great mark on the world. True, she was not a singer, but hadn't singers always become something more than what they aspired to be and left him behind?

"I should get going," she spoke, gently taking her hand out of his. "I'm to have dinner with Aunt Giry and Meg tonight. Everyone will be back later in the week to talk about the newest opera, and this is one of the last chances we'll have together as a…family."

"Of course. We shall talk again soon. In two days I shall come and we will…talk."

Another smile. "Until then." She walked out of the room and Erik was left to wonder at the changeling he had met, and to think about what had just happened.

* * *

I couldn't think about my meeting with the Phantom. It was all too much to take in and he himself was an enigma of a character that was probably never going to cease to amaze me. As I made my way back to my room, I thought that Mama would be very proud of me, reaching out to him as I did. Being kind to those who had not always been shown kindness was something she had tried to instill in me for year.

"Anne!"

I looked up to find Aunt Giry standing at my door. "Is everything alright? Is it dinner time already?"

She looked worried and confused as if she wasn't really sure of what to say. "Anne, you have a visitor."

"A visitor?" I opened the door to my room.

The blonde hair was piled atop the head of a well developed young woman. The person standing before me wore a day dress of light blue and wore a matching hat. She was examining herself in the mirror and she saw me instantly. She turned and her blue eyes lit up with joy.

"ANNIE!" She yelled. She came forward and embraced me.

"E…Elizabeth?"

* * *

**AN: Just a clarification. Anne has no romantic feelings towards Erik at this point in time. Erik has no romantic feelings towards Anne at this point in time. Anne's offer stems from her past and what her mother has tried to teach her. It's kindness...nothing more...yet. :D**


	13. The News

**Disclaimer: No, I do not own Erik. He is simply borrowed for my own purposes.**

**AN: Four chapters in, what, three days? Not bad if I do say so myself. I'll try to have at least one chapter up tomorrow, I may even have TWO if I feel very inspired. I will say, here at the beginning, that everything in this chapter turned out exactly as I wanted it to. Black ribbon roses to all those who review!**

* * *

Chapter 13

"Oh, Annie I've missed you so!" Elizabeth proceeded to give me a kiss on the cheek and she did a twirl around the room. "You can't imagine how heartbroken I was to go home after the end of school and find you gone! Mama was so unfair to send you away like that. Why, you could have come with me to all the balls and parties and teas and we would have had loads of fun! What was she thinking sending you to this place?"

I cleared my throat. "Um, Elizabeth, this is our Aunt Giry. Mama's sister."

"Hello, Elizabeth. I must confess you have grown up into quite the young lady."

She smiled and ran her hands over her expensive morning gown. "Only the best for the Grandmama's dear. A fine education and the best London's society can offer…" She sighed and plopped down onto the divan.

"Well, Anne, I'll leave you two alone." Aunt Giry gave my hand a reassuring squeeze and whispered that she would be just on the other side of the door if I needed her. "You two must have so much to catch up on."

Elizabeth smiled politely and closed the door behind our Aunt. "Ugh! What an insufferable old woman! Do you know she practically stalled me in seeing you? I never met someone so rude in my entire life!"

I turned to find the smile on my sister's face replaced by a look of contempt. "Elizabeth, she is our Aunt, and she has been very good to me."

"Personally, I don't know what Mother was thinking. But then she never did have that much sense about her."

"Elizabeth! You shouldn't speak so of our mother. She raised us!"

"Correction, she raised _you_ and we see how you turned out. I, however, was raised by tutors and by Grandmama's hand!" She stood up and rushed over to me, grasping at my hands. "Oh, but Annie you must tell me all about your time here. Has it been absolutely horrid?"

"The summer has been a little slow, but I must confess I enjoy my time here. I'm surrounded my music, art, and culture, and it's a great wonder to me."

"Yes, you always did have such a fascination for the arts. To be sure, I can't see how. No one who is anyone cares about such things nowadays."

"And yet this theatre is filled to capacity when a new show is performed."

"Oh, everyone goes to _see_ it, but no one wants to _be_ in it."

I wrung my hands and saw that Aunt Giry had brought tea for us. "Would you care for a cup, Elizabeth?"

"Thank you, Annie, I would _love_ one."

"How was your season in town?" I asked, pouring her a cup and fixing it to her liking.

"It was just marvelous. I was the belle of every ball and cotillion. I am even engaged!" She threw off the glove that covered her left hand and displayed the beautiful ring that sparkled in the light.

"Oh, Elizabeth!" I tried to be happy for my sister, but I couldn't muster the energy. "That's wonderful! Who is he?"

"He's the eldest son to the Earl of Manchester. His Christian name is James, but he's my darling Manchester in my heart. We met at my debut at the beginning of the season and he would not take no for an answer. Grandmama was satisfied with his recommendation and with such a strong countenance there is every possibility he will rise in the ranks of nobility. Imagine! I will get to go to Court and see everyone who is anyone! Grandmama and I came here to buy my trousseau."

"But shouldn't that be done in London?" I poured my own cup and walked towards the chair in front of my vanity.

"Yes, I do believe it should, but everyone buys their wedding clothes in London. Grandmama will not spare the expense on my account and she has a house here in Paris."

I smiled wryly wondering why I had not been told this. To be sure, I didn't mind living in the Opera House but it would have been nice knowing I could have stayed at Grandmama's house. But it was silly to think such a thing. Grandmama would never allow it.

"And who is looking after Mama while you are here?" I raised the cup to my lips.

Elizabeth stilled. "Oh, Annie, didn't you hear?"

My breath caught, and my hands trembled. "Hear what?"

"Mama's dead. She died about a week after she got your first letter."

The cup and saucer fell from my hands and landed on the floor, shattering into pieces. "Elizabeth…you're not serious. Surely, you must be joking. You'd be wearing black and would be in mourning and wouldn't have attended balls and most certainly would not be preparing your wedding."

She smiled and waved her hand. "Oh, Annie, people think so little of _those_ nowadays. Grandmama says that we must always press forward. The world doesn't stop every time someone dies, and neither should we."

I stood up and instantly saw the room tilt. I gripped the back of the chair to steady myself. "Aunt Giry!" I cried, knowing she would hear me.

The door flew open. "Anne?" I felt her reassuring arms around me and she settled me back in to my chair. I felt the tears on my face, but I didn't know I was crying.

"Oh, Aunt! I just told Annie that Mama is gone, and I think she's about to faint!" Elizabeth pulled out her handkerchief and waved it in front of my face.

"She's…gone?"

"Mama is dead, Aunt! She's dead and no one told me!" I could feel the faintness slipping away from me. The initial shock was still there, but I wasn't going to faint as Elizabeth was so keen to believe. I looked into Aunt Giry's face and I could see the astonishment there. She was as shocked and unaware as I was. How could I have not known? How could they hide this from me? _Why_ would they hide this from me? My body went numb and I trembled not with sorrow but with a more powerful potent emotion.

"Elizabeth," I bit out. "I think it's best if you leave now."

"Oh, but I'm to take you with me to see Grandmama. I have a carriage waiting and everything." She looked into my face and the smile she gave was so fake that I wanted to scream. "Honestly, Annie, it's nothing to get so worked up about. You should have been preparing yourself for this. You knew she wasn't going to live forever.'

"Get out!" I yelled, letting my temper get the best of me.

"Annie?"

"Get out Elizabeth! Leave me alone! Go away!" I screamed at her and Aunt Giry quickly saw Elizabeth out of my room. I could hear my sister's mutterings of indignation all the way down the hallway.

"She has no right to get so upset like that! Honestly, she's blowing everything out of proportion."

I didn't know if I wanted to cry or break everything in my room. I was conflicted, torn, and filled with such a pain that I had never felt before or since. My heart felt as if it was going to shatter into a million pieces and I couldn't breathe. I wrapped my arms around myself in order to block out everything else that could possibly matter in this world. I felt as if my one tie to life was ripped from me.

"She's gone, Anne. Though I must say that she was quite angry with you."

"Did you see the way she acted? It was as if she didn't care! Our own mother! And Elizabeth just treated her as if she was some insignificant person who didn't raise her!"

I felt my Aunt's arms around me again. "Come along, Anne. Let's get you settled into bed."

"But…dinner…"

"It all can wait. You need to have a good cry and mourn the loss of your mother just as I will now mourn the loss of my sister."

I looked at her with tear-filled eyes realizing how thoughtless I had been. "Oh, Aunt!"

"Now don't you fret about it." She moved me over to the bed, taking down my hair as we walked over. "You just lie down, and when you've had a good rest, we'll talk."

I laid down and rested my head against the pillow. I felt tears immediately rise and fall.

"There now." She sat down next to me and pushed my hair back. "You rest now. Or at the very least get all your tears out."

"It's so unfair," I whispered. "I couldn't be there for her…and then, they didn't tell me."

"What has you more upset, Anne? That your mother is gone or that no one told you immediately after it happened?"

The question struck me. "I guess, both."

"Well, maybe your grandmother was protecting you. You yourself knew that your mother was not long for this world."

I seriously doubted that I was not told on account that I needed protection. But, I should have seen something like this coming. Three months I hadn't had any letters or any word. I should have known that she was gone and they were hiding it from me! Yet, I had held on to the foolish hope that she was alive and well…well, as well as she could be in her condition. But why didn't they tell me? Surely I meant more to them that what I currently felt like…

"I have no doubt that now that your family is here, you'll be mingling in society with them and everything will be alright."

I sat up. "What?"

"Well, we knew that your stay here was only temporary. As much as I've grown to love you over these past few months and as desperately as I want to keep you, you should be with your family."

"But you are my family…" I reached out and took her hands. "I love living here."

"Surely, you'll want to get married and…"

"Mother wanted me to be happy and to marry for love. I am happy here at the Opera House and if I'm here being surrounded by what I love, then matrimony will come by being here." I wiped at my eyes as the fresh onset of tears came. Mother's wish for me was her dying wish.

She seemed uncomfortable at my words, as if she wasn't sure to believe them. "Well, I'm going to leave you now. You get everything out and I'll come check on you a little later." She pressed a kiss to my cheek and left me.

I didn't know what I would do, now being on my own, but I didn't feel like laying in bed. I quickly got up and went over to the trunk situated at the foot of my bed. I opened it up and rummaged around and found some of the few things that mother had kept. She had gifted them to me when I came to Paris, as she would have no further use for them. One of her prized possessions was a photograph of her and father on the day they married. Both looked so happy and so very much in love. The only other photograph was taken just a few days before father…died. It was a family photo with mother sitting in a tall backed chair, with Elizabeth sitting in her lap. Father stood behind them with his hand resting on my shoulder and I stood next to Mama. It was hard to make out as the photo was so old, but I could see Mama holding my hand.

I remember the day that picture was taken. Elizabeth had been fussy about her clothes but I had spent all morning watching Mama get ready. She looked so beautiful in her dress of dark burgundy. Elizabeth and I were both in white with dark burgundy sashes, and Papa wore a tie that matched Mama's dress. We were all smiles, but I could see Papa's strained smile. We looked like one beautiful, happy family. As the tears fell once more, I wished so hard that we could go back to that happy time and be a family once more.

* * *

**AN: Yes, this is exactly how I pictured Elizabeth from the very beginning and this is exactly how I wanted the news to be portrayed to Anne. Do you agree? Leave a review and let me know!**


	14. The Choice

**Disclaimer: No, I do not own Erik. He is simply borrowed for my own purposes.**

**AN: Black ribbon roses to all those who review!**

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Chapter 14

"Ms. Anne?"

Waking up was something I did not want to do. I fought to hold on to sleep as long as I could but the ever pressing voice was trying to get me to leave the brief recess of reality. I had dreamed of Mama, and I was sure that I would dream of her every time I closed my eyes. In this dream, we were still living in the country house, and she was sitting at the table writing a letter. I was simply watching her, not moving, not speaking. She wasn't say anything but her lips moved as she mouthed the words she was penning to paper. And that was all. It wasn't a dream of any great consequence but I saw her, as she once was. Carefree, healthy…and alive.

"Ms. Anne, you must wake up. There's a note for you and I believe it's from your grandmother."

I had no choice to be awake, though I had slept so little since yesterday. I had tossed between emotions of sorrow and anger. It was an unquiet sea of toil, to which ever sunlit hour seemed to bring with it more unrest. I was glad it was Jane who woke me. I had not had much of a need of her since living in Paris. I had always been able to take care of myself, and I knew she liked her independence, after I was seen to, of course. She had taken the time to move between the different sections of the Opera House, though she spent most of her time in the kitchen telling the Cook what to feed me. At times, I took her for granted, but it always pleased her that I at least recognized that I did.

"Jane, I have no desire to hear any sort of excuses or reasoning from my grandmother."

"Ah, Ms. Anne. That's the pain talking. She is your family, and family connections are worth preserving…no matter how painful the connection may be. Elizabeth will be introduced to all sorts of society here, and as rank is rank, I think it would make your mother happy to know that you had some friends from all walks of life."

Jane always had a way of saying things that would make me believe Mama would truly want me to do. I had Mama's tendency of being uninterested with the fashionable world, but knowing people for who they _were_ rather for what they seem to be was the sign of a good person. Mama never judged anyone. She always took the time to get to know a person, rather than the society.

I sighed, and sat up in bed. I leaned against the pillows as Jane lit a few candles. "What does it say?"

"I haven't opened it, Ms. Anne." Jane handed me the correspondence which I opened.

_My darling Anastasia,_

_ Dear Elizabeth has told me of the great shock you sustained upon the knowledge of the death of your departed mother. I understand what terrible distress this brings you, and I would very much like for you to come and visit with me while I stay here in Paris to assist your sister in her upcoming nuptials that are going to push her forth into such a high standing in society. We shan't be staying in Paris long, of course. Merely, a week or two, but it would be right and proper for you to be seen associating with your family. The carriage will be sent for you and your things tomorrow at half past twelve. I expect to see you here soon, and to assist us in every way needed as is your duty and responsibility._

_Sincerely,_

_Grandmama_

_P.S. Jane will not be needed. Do be a dear, and break the news to her. Gently, of course._

"Well, I positively hate the woman!" Meg huffed, sitting next to me at the dinner table. I had read the letter to Aunt Giry and Meg who had done me a great service by taking me out to dinner at a small restaurant very much out of the way. They both thought that I couldn't stay in the Opera House and just wither away. There had to be a balance between socializing and solitude.

"Meg!" Aunt Giry admonished.

"Well, don't you?" Meg asked. "She sounds positively dreadful! Imagine, uprooting Anne like at, after she's been with us for months! And demanding that Anne dismiss Jane without any sort of word of gratitude. She's a horrid woman, Anne, and I insist that you not return to her!"

I took a sip of water to hide the smile tugging at my lips.

"We have only been Anne's family for a few months, Meg. She has been with her grandmother for years, and with her sister for even longer." Aunt Giry gave Meg a silencing look as she was getting ready to carry on the tirade. "Anne, the choice is yours, as it always is. But you must look at the long term effects of whatever choice you make."

I nodded fully comprehending her meaning, but Meg was a little less aware."

"What do you mean, Mother?"

She sighed and rubbed her temple before answering. "I mean that Anne will have the opportunity to do and to be a lot more than if she continues to live at the Opera House. You and I, Meg, have not the means to thrust her forward into society as her sister has already done."

"But if I were to stay at the Opera House, I would be happy."

"Anne, you stay in the Prima Donna's rooms because it is the wish of your departed mother. Now that she is gone, it is most likely that the Managers will stop receiving any sort of allowance to keep you there."

I had not known that mother had put forward any money to keep me in Paris but it made sense why I was placed in such a good room instead of in the dormitories like I had assumed.

"Your grandmother, I have no doubt, will pull any sort of funds away from you just to keep you close to her."

"I've been poor and destitute once, Aunt. I can do it again." I took a bite of my salad, hoping that she would stop this conversation. If I was to leave, I didn't want my last night with them to be filled with contention and arguments.

"Well, I hope you stay." Meg reached over and took my hand. "I couldn't ask for a better cousin _or_ friend."

I smiled back at her and squeezed her hand. "I have certainly enjoyed my time at the Populaire."

"All the more reason for you to stay."

"But, Anne, the choice is yours." Aunt Giry's expression was hard to read. I couldn't tell if she wanted me to stay or if she wanted me to go.

But there was also Erik to think about. I hadn't forgotten him during the entire upheaval. He was another person to include in all of this. I felt guilty leaving just after we began our…arrangement? Friendship? Well, whatever the word for it, I couldn't leave him…could I?

"Excuse me, would you?" Meg got up and left the table to go to the ladies' room. I waited until she was out of ear shot before speaking.

"I saw Erik today." My voice was just above a whisper, but she heard me.

She appeared to be unfazed but my admission. "I'm surprised he's kept away from you for so long."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You've been practicing out in the open for three months now, Anne. Erik can recognize talent quite well. It was only a matter of time."

"So, you're saying you wanted this to happen."

"No, I'm saying that it's something that eventually he would have noticed. You've made no effort to hide your love of the arts."

"Should I have?"

"It would have been better if you had."

"_It would be almost easier if you were_." I recalled her words from when I first arrived at the Opera House. I had made a remark if she had wished me to be plainer than I already was.

"You think I'm going to become another Christine." I whispered it more to myself than to her as if suddenly putting the pieces together.

"Anne…"

"From what I recall, Christine was a singer and quite beautiful. I am neither, so I think you'll have nothing to worry about. He is simply helping me further along my skills as a pianist and in return, I help him ease away the hours of solitude."

"You can't be serious."

"I'm just trying to help. I'm not going to become his next obsession. There's no possibly way that will happen."

"That's what your mother said," was her cryptic reply.

I almost demanded that she explain, but Meg returned and sat down in her chair. The subject, for the time being, was closed.

* * *

I had not had the opportunity to continue my conversation with Aunt Giry after leaving the restaurant as she and Meg were quick to retire. I supposed that she had enough to say on the subject and I was now left to my own devices. The choice seemed so easy, but I knew that there would be consequences whatever the decision. I hadn't actually given my word to Erik about our arrangement, but I felt obligated. No one, regardless of past circumstances, deserved to be withheld from human interaction or from any act of kindness. I had to talk to him, though. He had a right to know…didn't he?

I sat in front of my vanity, preparing for bed and for tossing over the decision. I had much to do for my sister who in truth did deserve every chance to be happy. I could come back to the Opera House after my sister was married and begin my studies with Erik. I surely wouldn't be needed after the wedding, and certainly not during the honeymoon. Any obligations towards them would be finished.

But could I even consider them my family after they kept the death of my mother a secret? My blood boiled in remembrance of how Elizabeth acted. She was so cold, so callous, and so fake! How could I even consider tying myself to them after all of this? Why would I want to? Elizabeth and I hadn't been close ever since father's death and Grandmother's obvious preferment of her to me, only solidified that fact. I had no use them except to be useful and to be of service.

"I would hate to be on the receiving end of your anger, mademoiselle.

I jumped up from my seat and whirled around and found Erik standing in front of my floor length mirror. "How…did you get in here?" I asked, once my heart had regained a steady rhythm.

"This place has many hidden passageways and corridors. I simply used one."

I frowned at him, but resumed my seat. "I find myself with a problem."

"And that caused you to look as if you would rip someone's throat out."

"You would feel the same way if your family kept the death of your mother secret."

Erik was silent for a moment. "Considering I have no family to call my own who would do such a thing, I can't really say that I would."

"Let me rephrase. You would feel the same way if Aunt Giry kept the death of your precious Christine a secret." The moment I said it, I regretted it. Erik had no cause to be the recipient of my anger.

"You're very direct in your words."

"I'm sorry, I did not mean to take my anger out on you." I put my head in my hands and sighed. "I've been asked to go and live with my grandmother while my younger sister buys her trousseau here in Paris and makes all the preparations for her wedding."

"We have an agreement, Mlle Hillcrest."

"Have you think I've forgotten? It would make me happier than words can say to be able to practice with someone as proficient as yourself, but I have an obligation to my family."

"A family that keeps secrets from you? Hardly sounds like they deserve the word 'family' associated with them."

"You don't understand. I owe a great deal to my grandmother for taking my family out of the terrible situation we were in, and I should return her kindness."

"Giving up something you love hardly sounds like a fair price."

"I'm not giving up music, just postponing it."

"Forgive me, if I'm not so apt to believe you. I've seen people like them a hundred times over. They will find a use for you until you dry up and become nothing more than an automaton without feelings and without any mind of your own."

"And if I stay?" I stood up and walked towards him, my anger rising. "I cannot ask my Aunt to keep me on, and I can't keep staying here at anyone else's expense."

"Would you be happy here?"

"Of course I would but…"

"And if I remember correctly, all your mother wanted for you was your happiness. The answer seems simple."

He didn't understand that it was not that simple. For him, to choose between music and anything else was a choice that wasn't hard to make. But me…

"Why are you so concerned for me to stay?"

"You have a gift," he replied, after a moment's thought. "It needs to be refined and shared.

"I will never sing, you do realize that. I will not become another Christine Daaé, you do understand?"

"You could _never_ become like her." The anger that dripped from that sentence scared me. "There's no way in all of Heaven or Hell that you could be like her. You have not her beauty, or grace, or angelic disposition."

"I don't need to be compared to someone who chose wealth over music, Erik. Get out!" I pointed to the door, even though I knew he didn't enter from there.

He didn't say another word to me as he stormed out of my room, leaving me to cry my own tears of pity, confusion, anger, and sorrow.


	15. The Decision

**Disclaimer: No, I do not own Erik. He is simply borrowed for my own purposes.**

**AN: Thank you to all those who have reviewed/favorited thus far! It's your constant support that keeps me putting up another chapter! I'm trying not to rush Erik and Anne, though it's getting hard since I just did a rough draft of their first kiss. Several chapters away, but I wanted it written down! Black ribbon roses to all those who review and favorite!**

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Chapter 15

A pounding headache greeted me when I awoke the following morning. I had slept very little, nightmares plaguing me during my sleep and tears while I was awake. Jane brought me a pot of chamomile tea which I greedily drank. I had made my decision not long after Erik left me and it haunted me like a spirit not at rest. The choice was mine, of course, but I knew the consequences it would bring to me in the end. I was torn between to obligations…two loves…music and family. While one made more sense than the other, choosing between them was unlike anything I had yet faced.

Jane and I talked that morning, and she cried her tears at the news. She understood my decision and supported me, but I knew the pain it caused her. I accepted her offer to pack my things and make the preparation for the move to my new residence and we spent the early morning talking and laughing over old memories we shared. Aunt Giry and Meg came in to hear my decision and there were mixed reviews by them both. Meg, in her naivety, understood the sacrifice I was making, and Aunt Giry did her best to smile. Both were more than willing to let me have the rest of the morning to myself so that I could prepare myself for the sudden change. Erik, I didn't see all day and Aunt told me that he was making his usual fuss with the managers and would leave me entirely alone. I was unsure how I felt about not seeing him. I wanted to tell him the decision I had made. It would be best, coming from me.

"Oh, miss, you never opened this!"

I was going through my piano music when Jane took down a brown wrapped parcel from atop my wardrobe.

"What is it, Jane?"

"The package your mother gave you when we left England. I put it in your wardrobe thinking you'd find it eventually."

I wiped my hands on my apron. "No, Jane. I forgot all about it." I had tried hard to wipe as much from my mind of that day as I could.

"Do you want to open it?" Jane held it out to me and I took it from her hands.

"I might as well." Jane and I sat down on my bed and I took the brown wrapping off and marveled at the Kingwood box inlaid with brass. I held my breath and opened the box. Amidst the beautiful burgundy velvet lining was a thick envelope which I took out and read its contents. I nearly fainted dead away with what I read and what laid underneath the envelope.

"Oh, miss!" Jane gasped, putting a hand over her heart.

"Jane…" I whispered. "You mustn't say anything about this."

"But your grandmother…"

"Don't worry. I'll tell her. But for the time being, put the envelope in the small carrying box and this box from my mother goes in the hidden compartment in my trunk." What was in the box, didn't change my decision about going, but it made me feel a little easier about my future.

The ride from the Opera House to my grandmother's Parisian home, was surprisingly short. I had no idea that they lived so close. It was probably so that they could keep an eye on me if I had done something they had not approved of. As I descended from the carriage, I took note of the iron gates that surrounded the house. I couldn't tell if the gates were to keep someone or in. For a moment, the entire place looked like a prison. Grandmama's carriage journeyed to the stables and I made my way to the front door. I didn't even need to knock as the occupants of the house were already expecting me. A butler greeted me and I was taken to see my family.

"Ah, Anne, darling. So glad that you could come."

I was ushered into a grand formal sitting room where it was painfully obvious that this was where Grandmama received her less than important guests. "It seemed as if I had little choice in the matter." I sat down in the appointed chair and was served tea by one of the abundant maids.

"Oh, Annie, everyone has a choice." Elizabeth smiled lazily from where she had draped herself in an overstuffed chair. She was munching on a piece of chocolate and I didn't dare comment on how inappropriate it was to speak with food in her mouth. "It's whether or not you can live with those choices that's the problem."

I smiled politely, and took a sip of my tea. "What sort of plans do you have for your stay in Paris?"

Elizabeth laughed. "Well, my _fiancé_, has paid handsomely for me and we are spending every last bit of it on my trousseau. My wedding gown is to be made of the finest silk and lace and I will be the talk of the fashionable world. I will be every man's dream and every woman's envy."

"My, you seem to have done quite well for yourself. And this soon to be husband of yours? How did you meet?"

"Oh, Annie I told you! We met at my debut! He is such a darling man and is quite partial to me. He asked for the first dance and I couldn't say no. I barely gave anyone else a second glance as long as he was with me."

I smiled, thinking that it would take a man of some strong constitution to put up with Elizabeth. "What does he look like?"

"He's ever so handsome! Fair hair and brown eyes, and such a strong physique! Even without the wedding, I'm everyone woman's envy. He was the most sought after during the season, swearing that he would be a confirmed bachelor, and then he met me. It was love at first sight."

I wondered at how much of Elizabeth's tale was true. She kept using her left hand, that sparkled with a ridiculous rock, to fiddle with her hair or do anything that would draw attention to it. I found the entire display to be quite silly…just like her.

"The wedding is less than a month away. A long engagement is quite hard on a couple so in love."

"Of course," I smiled politely. Better the two of them marry before this Earl realized just what he got himself in to.

"We have secured a marvelous seamstress who is quite proficient. I believe she owns a shop not too far from the Opera House. _La Marguerite, _I believe is the name."

"Yes, Grandmama. She took care of my dresses when I first arrived in Paris. She is quite handy with the needle and thread."

She continued as if I hadn't even spoken. "You'll of course be expected to go with Elizabeth everywhere as her chaperone and to make sure everything is done just as it's needed to be."

"I'm sorry?" I put my tea cup down and stared at her as if she'd taken leave of her senses.

"You'll see to all the invitations, the guest list, everything. You'll make yourself available as needed, so that Elizabeth can have a smooth wedding."

"There'll be no need to put yourself in the wedding party as I'm having some friends from school take care of that."

"I…I'm sorry, Elizabeth. You two seem to be under some sort of misapprehension."

"I beg your pardon?" Grandmama looked at me, eyes blazing fire. My courage did not fail me.

"I'm staying at the Opera House. I'm not returning to this family."

* * *

The opera for the new season was to be Gounod's _Romeo and Juliette_ which if done properly would have every chance of being a very successful production. Madame Carrolton had the ability to play a convincing Juliette and of course the Opera House had procured an exemplary tenor from Italy, Signor Alessandro Matteo, as Romeo. Preliminary work was already being begun on how rehearsals would run, when costumes and sets needed to be finished, when lines need to be learned, and all of the other minute details that made a production come together. Madame Giry was focused on the ballet corp rehearsals and there was such a bustling about that no one paid any attention to the masked man that sat in Box 5.

Too often he had sat in his usual seat, watching the rehearsals from the shadows. As a man of talent, modesty something not in his list of character traits, he knew when talent was wasted. He knew it when Christine left, though it had taken him some time to realize it. He knew it now when Anne left. Why did God see fit to bless people with talent and they not share it with the world? They settled for more common and conventional life that required no sacrifice and no push to a person's character. Erik had given up any sort of hope for a life but he had a solace that was as unchanging as the rise and fall of the sun. There was always some comfort to be gained from composing, or from sculpting, a rare thing he did when the first love of his life brought no ease to his pain.

After he released Christine to live forever in the light, music brought only glimpses of a life impossible to attain. He had taken time to work through the hurt and to find relief in the only thing that truly mattered. Erik promised himself that he would never make such a mistake again. He would never get close to another human being as he had to Christine ever again. Anne was no exception, despite the ever present display of the pure gift she possessed.

He could have opened such doors for her and she could have been placed upon the stage the likes the world had never seen. Yes, it was highly improper for young ladies to perform in public, especially if it was some sort of occupation. But, now, Anne would never know. She had made her choice and she would now have to live with it.

"The world keeps turning, even if you insist on living in the past, Erik."

Madame Giry's voice was just above a whisper and Erik was surprised to find that everyone on stage had dispersed. How long had he been sitting here? How much time had passed?

"You'll make yourself ill, dwelling on events on long past. You must find a way to live in the present and find a way to live for the future."

"I thought I had. Your niece…"

"Anne? You hardly know her. All you saw was a talented girl with beauty and kindness. There's a grown woman there who has lived a full life filled with more sorrow than a woman of her age should."

"What happened to her?"

"That is not my story to tell. And speaking of stories, you were with us all those months ago when we returned from having tea with the Prima Donna, weren't you?"

Silence was the only answer she would receive.

"You were surprised that she didn't ask for your tale, weren't you?"

"I was surprised that her curiosity didn't over power her. Curiosity is a dangerous thing in women."

"You see, there you go, making judgments that are based on the past. You'll never be able to live if you do that."

"And what makes you think that I want to live in the here and now."

Madame Giry smiled. "Anne has returned."

"What?! I thought she…"

"Was leaving? So did I, but I guess she changed her mind during the night. Something or someone might have had something to do with that. I know you went to see her last night."

"Rest assured, I had nothing to do with whatever decision she made."

"Maybe…maybe not."

* * *

**AN:: And scene! Guesses on what's in the box? I might just take your idea(s)! Oh, and it was unconsciously done but I made Anne and Elizabeth very much like Anne and Elizabeth from Jane Austen's _Persuasion_. Anne's unfailing devotion to her family, and Elizabeth a spoiled little rich girrl. A reviewer, bL00D pRINC3SS to be precise, made a comment on how Elizabeth was like Lydia Bennet from Austen's _Pride a__nd Prejudice_. Chapter 16 is in the works as we speak!_  
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	16. Consequences and Mother's Final Words

**Disclaimer: No, I do not own Erik. He is simply borrowed for my own purposes.**

**AN: Alright! Another chapter! The page breaks in the middle of this chapter are a flashback. Want to know what happened after Anne broke the news? Black ribbon roses to all those who review and favorite!**

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Chapter 16

"Oh, Anne, I can' believe that we're going to be living in the same room together! We're going to be just like sisters!" Meg danced around the room as if she were the happiest girl alive. "I promise, I'm going to be a million times better than Elizabeth! We'll stay up late talking and laughing and getting into all sorts of trouble! I promise, it'll be the best time you've ever had!"

Though I seriously doubted Meg and I would be up late since she would be swamped with rehearsals, I did find it comforting that she was so excited about spending time with me. I knew that I was going to need a lot of support now that I was without help from my wealthy grandmother. And though I felt a little concerned about what was on the horizon, I never felt freer. Suddenly, I felt as if a burden was lifted off my shoulders and everything was just a little bit brighter.

"Now, Ms. Anne, are you sure you're going to be alright? I'll just be down in the kitchens doing odds and ends, but I'll be more than happy to stay with you."

"Jane, you are a dear, as always, but I'll be alright. I've been without a maid, before. I know how to take care of myself. You don't mind leaving your calling as a lady's maid for the kitchens, do you?"

"Worked in a kitchen all my life, Ms. Anne. It's like riding a bicycle. You just ring if you need anything." She waved goodbye and left me with Meg and her mother.

"Now, Anne, this room isn't large, but…"

"It's fine, Aunt. Jane and I condensed a lot of my things earlier and what I didn't want, or rather what didn't hold any extreme emotional value, has been delivered to Grandmama. Everything I own fits into that trunk."

"It's not much," Meg whispered before getting a silencing glare from her mother.

"I had nothing last time. So I think I'm doing fairly well. And I'm still going to see Madame Carrolton and be paid for being her accompanist. It won't be much, but maybe I can do something here at the Opera House."

"If you were a singer…"

"No, Meg." I cut her off. "Singing is not something I do anymore. Perhaps, in the costume department. I'm pretty good with a needle and thread. Might as well let that formal education count for something."

"Maybe I can speak with Monsieur Moreau, our conductor. Perhaps you can help with rehearsals since you play so well."

"Oh, I would like that! Of course, he'd have to understand I cannot take a full orchestra score and read it on sight."

Aunt Giry laughed while Meg was attempting to put it all together. Bless her dear heart. "I don't think he would expect you to, my dear. Now, Meg and I have rehearsal to start with. We'll leave you to get settled in."

"Oh, but _maman_!"

"Meg go and begin your exercises. There is much to do before the show begins."

She hung her head but left the room, muttering under her breath.

"Anne, I do believe that you may have a visitor soon. He was quite surprised to find out that you were still staying."

"Aunt, I would have thought that you wouldn't have approved with any sort of contact with him. I'm confused why you're acting as if it's the most normal thing in the world for he and I to be seeing each other."

"First of all, you're not 'seeing each other' in any other capacity than teacher and pupil. I have put guidelines to Erik and he knows what fate awaits him should he harm you in _any way_."

The emphasis she put on that statement brought everything together. "You know!" I felt fear grip my body and my heart raced. I had tried so hard to keep it a secret, from everyone. My knees gave out and I crumpled to the floor. It got hard to breathe. I began to see spots dance before my eyes.

"Anne…you must listen to me." I felt her hands on my shoulders. "I am the only other person who knows your situation. Your mother told me, and only me. I think that's why she tried to make sure that all ties were broken with your grandmother so that, when the truth comes out, and will come out, Anne, you wouldn't be subject to all the gossip and ridicule she would show to you."

"It wasn't my fault," I gasped out, trying to keep the terrors at bay. I had tried so hard to block out the pain, to block out the memory and I had done well for some time.

"No one is blaming you, but some day you are going to have to put it all at rest."

"I…thought I had…" I put my hands over my face as the tears flowed. "I've tried so hard to put it behind me."

"And you will, but right now is not the time. I just thought it would be for you to know how serious I take this…arrangement with him. If anything, and I do mean _anything_ happens to upset you, I will take the gendarmes down there and finish what the mob started five years ago."

She stayed with me a few more minutes longer while I tried to gain my composure and put the walls back up. Each time it got harder and harder to put up the defenses around me. It wasn't until I had stopped crying and was standing on my own two feet that she kissed my cheek and left.  
I looked around the small room that had undergone a lot of change during the short day. While I was feuding out with Grandmama a second bed, dresser, and mirror had been added. The room wasn't unbearably cramped, but it would make for a fun time of maneuvering.

I liked the simplicity in comparison to the extravagance of the Prima Donna's rooms. This room was gifted to Meg upon becoming the Prima Ballerina. One of the things that apparently changed was how the managers and patrons paid the workers. Those who held good positions in the company were rewarded with higher pay and, like in Meg's case, a room of their own if they lived in the Populaire. I stepped to the mirror that was atop my dresser and began to change out of my black mourning dress into something a little less cumbersome. I was glad of the veil that I had taken the liberty of wearing that had attached to my hat. The mark on my face was hidden quite well. As I slowly took off my clothes and set them aside, I saw the bruises that were slowly making their way to the surface, and the memory of the argument with Grandmama came back afresh.

* * *

"You're not coming back?" Grandmama's voice was not shrill like some people who got angry. But it dropped low and one had to play close attention if they were going to understand the full force of her words.

"But who will look after me before the wedding?"

"I'm sure one of your friends from school would be more than happy to do so, Elizabeth." I stood up and prepared to leave. "I'm sorry to have caused you so much trouble, but you must realize that I do not belong here anymore than Elizabeth would belong living at the Populaire."

"So you're going to demean yourself and turn your back on the only people that ever loved you? Ever cared about you?"

"I am only doing what my mother wanted me to do."

"The only thing that _woman_ did that was intelligent was marrying my son, though I will proclaim to my dying day that he was an absolute fool for marrying her."

"Don't you talk about Mama that way!" I had never yelled at my grandmother before but as she was now going to be grandmother in name only, I through all conventions out the window. "She raised two fine daughters…"

"One, technically. I was put into the care of others." Elizabeth smirked, taking another bite of chocolate. "I got lucky."

"I'll call her what I want! She's dead and I hope rotting in Hell for all the misery she put me through!"

"Misery? Just what could she put your through since you didn't even bother trying to find us until were both old enough to be seen as suitable debutants for society? Through us, you could rise to places that you only dreamed of! Elizabeth has made a suitable match, and you will take all credit for it, even though you did nothing! NOTHING!"

That was when the first blow hit. She had gotten close enough during my tirade to reach out and strike me across the face.

"How dare you speak to me that way! I took you from the gutter like a drowned rat and tried to make you look presentable! Something that not even God himself would be able to do! And now you turn your back on me as if I carried the plague!"

"As if I could ever call you family after letting my mother's death no reach me for three whole months! How could you ever hope for me to call you family?!"

"You wretched brat!"

The cane she carried met contact with my body next. Grandmother apparently had some knowledge of how to beat someone without breaking any bones. She never hit hard enough to injure my bones, but I knew it was going to leave bruises.

"You spoiled, selfish, guttersnipe!" The final blow fell on my back and it was over.

During the entire beating, I never begged her to stop. I didn't even cry. I had been beaten before, and this was nothing compared to then. I simply did what I had done all those times before. I took my mind out of the situation and it seemed for a moment that I was looking down on it all. Elizabeth's voice, I never heard. She didn't even make any attempt to stop what was going on.

"Get out! Get out and never come back! I never want to see your face again! You are dead to me and to this family!"

She turned away from me and I rose to my feet as quickly as I could. The pain hadn't set in yet. I was still numb with shock. It wouldn't hit until later, when I was alone. I didn't say goodbye. I didn't take my leave and give them my love over my wishes for their health and happiness. I left the room and made my way to the front door.

"Miss?"

My hand was on the handle and I wanted nothing more than to leave, but the soft quiet voice stopped me. I dropped my hand from the bronze door handle and turned to see a maid from back home looking at me. She held an envelope in her hands.

"Your mother charged me to give you this. Your grandmother took it after your Mama's death, and I'll probably lose my job for this but…" She pressed the envelope into my hands and scurried away. I looked at the handwriting and saw my name written in beautiful calligraphy. My mother had written me a letter! These were her final words! I stuffed the letter into the pocket of my dress and left the house.

Sure enough, right on time, the carriage was arriving that I had hired that would take me back to the Opera House. Once inside, the carriage driving back to my new home, I felt the discomfort. I kept my mind focused on the fact that I wasn't back into a secluded room yet, but I felt a tear fall and my heart break.

* * *

My mind drifted back to the present, and I inspected the bruises on my body. My legs, my arms, my sides, and even my back were all effected. I would have to take great care to cover well during the upcoming weeks. No one could know, especially my Aunt. I felt sore, and it hurt to move. I knew that it was going to be worse as the day progressed and tomorrow I was going to be miserable. But I knew something that would bring some comfort to me during my pain. Mama's letter. I pulled out a robe and put it on. After securing it tightly around my waist, I pulled out mother's letter from the pocket of my dress and settled myself on the bed. I opened it, and read the last precious words of my departed mother.

_My darling Anastasia,_

_ If you are reading this, than I can assure you, my precious daughter, that I am now singing with angels in Heaven. Don't weep, my child, when you discover the news of my death. Death is just a natural part of life, and it happens to us all at some time. I have been ill, a long time, and I stayed alive long enough to know that you were going to be happy and well looked after. I know that my dear sister is looking after you to the best of her ability, and that are going to do whatever you must to be happy._

_ You must know, my dearest, how much I loved you and how much I tried to protect you when things took a turn for the worst. I taught you everything I know and loving people for what we all hope for them to be rather than for what they seem to be. There is good in everyone, even if they don't always show it. I do not know how your grandmother is going to treat you when I am gone, but you must not let it anger you. She always had a fierce hold over your father and I'm afraid that she's not always been the best at expressing herself. _

_ Do not blame Elizabeth for what she may do. I'm afraid that she was not gifted with your sweet spirit and will act only as her nature will allow her. You cannot judge people by how they are, my dear Anne. You can only trust and believe that in the end, they will see the errors of their ways and change. I will not lie, most of the time this does not happen, but if we always believe the worst in people, than shan't we degenerate as well?_

_ I understand that you have met the Phantom of the Opera. I remember him well, from when Antoinette brought him to the Opera House. In the beginning I found her to be foolish in bringing him, but I know now that it was nothing but a pure act of kindness. Something that I am sure he has seen very little of. I trust you to your own judgment, darling, and that you will look with your heart and not with your eyes._

_ You must know, that regardless of what anyone ever tells you, I love you so very much. I did everything I could to protect you and to keep you safe. Never dwell on the mistakes of yesterday, for they cannot be undone. Never plan for tomorrow, for it is not guaranteed. Live for today, because it's the only today you get. I will see you one day in Heaven my precious daughter._

_All my love,_

_Mama_

* * *

__**AN: Don't worry. Erik's going to have a say in regards to the bruises. Next up, the first lesson!**


	17. Journey to the Underground

**Disclaimer: No, I do not own Erik. He is simply borrowed for my own purposes.**

**AN: Sorry! No first lesson this time. Should be in the next one or two. These two really love to talk! Black ribbon roses to all those who review and favorite!**

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Chapter 17

Meg was still at rehearsal when I decided to get redressed and go in search of Erik. I wore only the minimal of attire. I was not about to be put the corset back on, so I settled for one of my plain dresses that had laces up the side. It was dark blue and I added a black lace shawl over my shoulders. I laced up my boots, left my hair undone, and left Meg's room. I didn't know how I would find him, so I simply went to the only place that had a Phantom sighting rate of 100%: the chapel. However, something was off as I left my room. I felt as if someone were following me, and at times I thought it was Erik, but every time I turned around to see who it was, the footfalls behind me stopped or it turned out to be a stage hand wandering around from one side of the Opera House to the next. I wrapped my shawl tighter around me and quickened my pace. The person behind me did too.

I was afraid of whoever was following me but not as much as when I felt someone grab me and pull me into a dark corner. I instinctively opened my mouth to release a scream but a gloved hand covered my lips. I tried to break free but the hold on me was tight and unrelenting.

"Stop moving," a voice whispered into my ear.

My eyes widened at the recognition of Erik's voice. "Erik?" I tried to say but his hand was still across my mouth.

"Be quiet," he hissed. He looked out into the corridor that I had just been pulled from and I looked as well. I felt my knees shake when I saw Michel Faucher walk past.

"Now…where did she go?" He whispered in the candle lit passageway. He turned around a few times and then made his way down a hallway and was out of sight.

"He's been taking quite an interest in you," Erik said, removing his hand from my mouth.

"I can take care of myself, thank you."

"I have no doubt. You struggled fiercely when I grabbed you. I had no idea you had so much fight in you."

I quickly disentangled myself, his hold on me causing my bruises to hurt. I tried not to rub my arms and shoulders in order to ease the tension. Instead, I put my hands on my hips and glared up at him.

"I would fight anyone who would grab me and push me into a dark corner."

He chuckled. "I have no doubt." He held his hand out to me. "Shall we go?"

I started. "Where?"

"You want to begin your lessons don't you?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Surprised that I came back weren't you."

"No."

"Liar."

We were both silent, staring each other down, and then he lowered his hand. "What did you come back for?"

I leaned against the wall and rested my head back, looking up at the ceiling. "It's more what did I leave my family for?"

"You left one group of people for another. It happens all the time."

"Well, I couldn't really stay with them. In the end, I would have been nothing more than an empty shell, my life sucked dry because I thought I owed them something." I touched the mark on my right cheek, thankful that Erik couldn't see it in the dim light. "I don't owe them anything. Now, I live by my own terms and by what I want to do."

"You can't do that. You're not a woman of means."

"True, but because of the kindness of my Aunt and the managers, I can room with Meg, and be surrounded by music for as long as I want to be. Aunt is trying to get me to be the accompanist for rehearsals while the instrumentalists are still learning their parts."

"It's hard work, and your talents will be wasted."

I shrugged. "Yes, but it's work, and I'm not afraid of it. I will not become some china doll to sit in a chair and do nothing but smile prettily and act nicely. I have two hands that are willing and able to work and I have a mind that can think for itself. And if I'm doing what I love, then talent is not wasted. But first…business." I smiled at him, seeing that a small smile was tugging at his lips.

"And what is your first order of business."

"We need to sit down and discuss the terms of our arrangement. I will be given the music for Madame Carrolton and for the troupe later today, I'm sure. So, I have time, and I did promise you my time. But we cannot discuss all of this here, and my room is out due to the thin walls and someone could walk in any moment."

"There is only one course open to us, then." He extended his hand, which I took. He gripped it and pulled me closer to him. "You do know that you talk too much, Anne."

I laughed. "I haven't been able to talk as much as I have for some time. Silence and humility were two things that my Grandmother prized very much." Erik started walking down the hallway, and I walked behind him, my hand held tightly in his own.

"Where are we going?"

"The only place where we shall be safe."

I hadn't realized that safety would be an issue, but if someone discovered us, _I _would be fine, but _Erik_ would not be. I kept silent as Erik kept walking until he stopped and pressed his hand against the wall. A small section of the wall gave way and moved behind the main wall. A secret passageway!

"I told you, the Opera House is littered with them. Though most of them are by my own design."

"How did you do that, especially since this place was burnt so terribly." I stepped over the threshold and watched as Erik resituated the false wall and continued walking.

"The place wasn't as bad as the newspapers made it seem." This corridor was lit with torches. Erik picked one up off the wall and held it in front of him. "I know my way well, but you may need the light. As I was saying, the fire really took care of the front part of the Populaire, mainly the stage, house, and the front entrance. What few traps I had set up there…well, anyone can replace architectural plans."

"I see…"

"I simply took the plans and redid them so that extra space was used for room but a wall or a door would be sly inserted, by myself to create the another passage that only I would need."

"And now, me?"

"Yes…and now you."

A man of many wonders. It was the only label I could put to Erik at the moment. A man of secrets and solitude, yes. But, if all the rumors were to be believed, he was a ventriloquist, magician, composer, musician, and architect. A man of many faces, despite the mask he wore. What sort of man would he have been had he not lived down here, and had been born with a perfect face and had lived amidst society? What kind of life would he have known, then?

* * *

Was it folly to trust her so completely? To show her where he lived? To become teacher once more? Yes. Looking back on it, Erik had no idea what he was thinking, going through all of this again. At least this time, he was a teacher as a man, and not as an Angel. But what was she thinking? How did she really feel about all of this? Rumor mills were always buzzing with excitement at some deviant act he had done. Fallen backdrops and red wax sealed notes were not he forte of his expertise. Even what he had done at the Populaire alone, wasn't the worst of his crimes. He was a condemned man in or out of the Opera House. And now, to invite another person into his close circle of connections…it was flirting with disaster. He'd already been betrayed by one woman, once. It undoubtedly would happen again. So what was he doing?!

"Ow!" Anne bit out. "Are you trying to break my fingers so that I can't play?"

Erik let ago instantly and he watched her massage some feeling back into her hand. "I'm sorry. I was…lost in thought."

"I'd hate to meet the person you were mad at." She shook out her hand and flexed her fingers. He smiled at how she briefly played few imaginary keys on a piano to make sure everything was working properly.

"I'm…sorry."

"It's alright. But perhaps I hold your arm this time?" She smiled, weakly.

He nodded and held out his arm to her which she took with no trace of fear or anxiety. "We're not too far now. We're almost to the lake."

"The lake?! I didn't know there was a lake here!"

"Very few do. We are already several stories beneath the surface. We are very close now."

"And you live down here? Away from the heat of the sun?"

"I haven't seen the sun in a few years."

"No wonder people would think you a ghost. You're so pale!" Anne laughed and Erik found himself chuckling alone with her.

"I suppose so." He carefully maneuvered her down the winding staircase that seemed to go into the bowels of Hell itself. It was a different path then when he taken Christine. There were no beautiful wall candles, no Caesar to help escort her down. The only thing that remained the same, and it was because there was no other way for her to access his home without meeting some fatal accident, was the gondulet. The dark wood of the small boat had not changed nor had the red velvet seat. They reached the water's edge and he heard Anne gasp.

"Something wrong."

"It's…beautiful," she whispered. Her eyes wide with amazement and she put a hand over her lips.

He wondered what she was looking at that made it look so beautiful. The pillars were done in a Grecian style yes, and there were a few candles lit, but that was all. She couldn't even see his home, which, in his own way, he took great pride in.

"Shall we, then?" He stepped into the boat and turned around to assist her. Thankfully, she wasn't wearing some ridiculous corset contraption. He had known that the moment he had grabbed her in the hallway. She was wearing low-heeled boots which would make this a lot easier. Or so he had hoped. Something must have caught on the edge of the boat because one minute she fine, and the next she was trying to regain her balance as she was toppling to the water. It all happened so quickly then. He reached for her and somehow managed to pull her back towards him, only he didn't count on the natural force of gravity. When both of them had regained their senses and had caught their breath, he was flat on his back and Anne was on top of him!

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She gasped, and quickly scrambled off of him. She was blushing furiously and was doing anything in her power to not look at him. "You're not hurt are you?" She asked, when it was apparent that she had gotten herself back together.

He stood and dusted off his pants. "No harm done." He slowly stood up and picked up the pole which would help him get across the lake. Anne scooted towards the middle of the boat and Erik stood at the back.

"I'm really sorry," she said again. "I don't know why I was so clumsy."

"It's nothing. You would have had a lot more to be sorry for had you gone head first into the lake."

"Why?" She turned around but he was too busy focusing on getting the boat to the other side of the lake that he didn't look down at her.

"There's a siren in this lake."

"A siren? I thought those were legend."

He smiled wryly at her. "You're with a legend, mademoiselle. You shouldn't be surprised of anything anymore.

She chuckled and turned back around. "Well, I don't know if I'd call you a _legend_. You're too real to be called that."

The house was now coming into view now. The gate was slowly rising and with it, the candelabras that were sitting deep in the water.

"How do you get the candles to light like that, the moment they come out of the water?"

He smiled. "It's a special wick that lights when it comes into contact with the air." The smile, however, quickly faded when he remembered the last time he had used such an entrance to his home. Christine had been in a daze the entire time and had never really asked about his home. Oh, she was entranced and transfixed just as Anne now was…but it had been a special moment between the two.

Pushing the unwanted memories aside, he docked the boat and got out. He turned back around to face Anne. She slowly stood up and when he was sure she was steady he spoke. "Forgive me, if I don't want you landing in the water or knocking your head against something when you fall." He didn't wait for her to say anything, but leaned in, put his hands around her waist and lifted her out of the gondulet and onto solid ground. He heard her gasp and he felt her hands on his shoulders. When her feet touched the ground he made eye contact with her. Would indignation fly?

"Thank you," she whispered.

She was close…too close. And that was how he saw it. He didn't see it earlier in the dimly lit corridor or when she had blushed to her hairline. But now, in the well lit banks of the lake, he could see it as plain as the mask on his face. Slowly he raised his left hand and laid it against her chin. He wasn't expecting his rage to rise so quickly as he turned her face and saw the cut and bruise that marred her cheek.

Anne stepped back, obviously realizing what had drawn his attention. But he grabbed her arm and pulled her close. She cried out and he thought it was in fear, but the only person who needed to fear him was the person who caused this!

"Who did this?" He whispered, but his voice was laced with venom.

She whimpered and he shook her.

"_Who_?!"

"Erik, please, you're hurting me!"

He saw her tears and he instantly released her. He didn't grab her that hard…there was no way he would have hurt her. He watched her lightly put her hand over the place where he had grabbed her and he saw her wince. It all fell into place.

"She didn't let you go without a fight…did she?"

"Erik, you have to understand…"

"No, I don't have to understand. Where are you hurt?" The thought that anyone could harm her made him want to unspeakable things. This precious gift of music could have been gone if one blow had been placed too carelessly.

"No where that's going to show."

"Where?!"

She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "You're not going to get answers out of me by shouting at me." She slumped her shoulders, defeat marking her face. She tucked her skirts underneath her knees and sat down at the lake's edge. "Besides, I've had worse."

He sat down next to her, confused and bewildered at this turn in her. He didn't say anything since it seemed apparent she wanted to talk. But she didn't say anything at all. Her eyes took on a brief vacant look and he could tell she was lost in some distant memory of her past. And then, it was over. Whatever defenses that had been brought down, were put back up, each one in their perfect place. How many times had he done the same thing? Walls were there for a reason and when a hole had formed, it took a few minutes to put everything back together.

"Anne…can I ask you something?" He posed the question after he saw the light return to her eyes.

"You can ask me anything you like. But you must remember that I may not answer it, because that is my choice." She smiled at him and he marveled at how unrestrained it was. Her smile went all the way to her eyes which sparkled in the candlelight.

"You know my reputation. You know what I have done in my past, and how I've acted towards people." He stopped but he wasn't pressed to continue. It was obvious she waited for him to speak. "Why then, are you here? When you have no guarantee for your safety."

She laughed. "Well, I know you won't do anything to me because if you do, Aunt Giry will have your head." She rested her chin on her knees and thought for a moment. "I guess…it's because that a person's past does not define their future. You can have been the very devil yesterday, but at the end of each day the sun sets and tomorrow it will rise. You can't hold on to the mistakes of yesterday because today will have its own mistakes and problems." She stood up and shook off her dress leaving Erik momentarily speechless…but she wasn't done. She knelt down and extended her hand to help him up. "Because I believe that person who has loved as you have, and who loves music in such a way as you do, can't be a bad person."


	18. Everything But What Really Matters

**Disclaimer: No, I do not own Erik. He is simply borrowed for my own purposes.**

**AN: I'm about to kick Erik and Anne. Yes, we know getting to know each other is important but my readers want something more! Let's get on with it already! Black ribbon roses to all those who review and favorite!**

* * *

Chapter 18

I waited patiently for Erik to put his hand in mine. I had a feeling that everything was going to be like walking on hot coals with him, so I had to go slowly. My heart warmed when I felt him not pressure me into telling him anything about my past. Apparently, neither of us wanted to talk about it. He would hear things about me and I would hear things about him, but we would probaly not trust each other enough to be completely open. There were things he would never tell me and there most certainly things I would never tell him. When he took my hand, I helped him to his feet and kept my distance this time. Having him stand so close to me as he helped me out of the boat was both thrilling and terrifying.

"So…are we going to actually get down to business or spend our time going over the past?"

His entire body changed and the mood shifted to something a bit more professional, which I was glad of. Anything more than strict professional relationship was not something either of us, I'm sure, was bargaining for. He took my hand and led me approximately thirty feet to his home. The house was just one story, but was large enough to house him and possibly one other. He directed me immediately to my left which was an informal sitting room. He placed me in one chair and he moved to another across from me. Professional, formal, and proper. I breathed a sigh of relief, for what, I wasn't sure.

"I'll expect you to be dilligent in your studies," he said, breaking the silence. "No extra curricular activities. You can rehearse with the troupe and with Madame as often as you wish and need to, but your lessons must be a high priority. You cannot see anyone, romantically, and must avoid social functions at all costs."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Any outside distractions are a hindrance to your talents and will crush you. That's why I didn't want you living anywhere else than the Opera House."

I sighed and rubbed my forehead. "Well, as far as seeing anyone romantically, I can assure you, you have nothing to worry about there. But if I want to socialize with someone other than the cast and crew of the Populaire, than I should be allowed that liberty."

"And who would you socialize with?"

"Whoever I think fit for my company," was my indignant reply. "I shouldn't be dictated to on who I can and cannot see. Others, I'm sure if they knew, would do everything in their power to persuade me from seeing you. And I would take as much credit to their words as I do to yours at this moment."

He stiffened and I realized I had stepped a little too far.

"I'm not saying that I think you as part of the dregs of society. To be quite honest, I know that I'm going to enjoy your company and my lessons, but that does not mean I will spend every waking moment with you or around music." I smiled. "Everyone needs a break, sometimes, from the things or people they love most."

"But you see my point…"

"Erik, I was able to give up my Grandmother and sister in order to find some small way to be happy. That is all I am trying to do, is to be happy. I'm not saying as soon as some elegible bachelor comes along I'm going to drop music entirely and get married. I'm never going to get married. But I will do what it takes for me to be happy and that means associating with whomever I think will make me happy."

He sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"Keeping a captive didn't work for you the last time, Erik."

"I'm not trying to make you a captive!"

"No, you're just trying to bend me to your will! Same thing!" I rolled my eyes. "Great, now we're arguing again. We seem to have a knack for doing that."

"At least you're not trying to appease me in everything."

"Believe me, if I find something wrong, you'll know about it." I leaned forward and looked at him earnestly. "But now that we've got that out of the way, how about your payment."

"Ah, yes. Your _time_."

I sighed and held my arms out. "I have barely enough to live on, now. So, I know you won't want my money. What else can I give you?"

"You can perform when the time comes."

"Perform? In public? Playing?" I tilted my head, entirely confused at what he was asking. "There's never a call to play in publi, Erik."

"But should the time arise, you'll share your talent with the world. In the meantime, I think I would like your company."

I smiled and stood up. I looked out the window towards the lake. It was silent, and I could hear the water softly lapping at the shore. "I'm sure it gets lonely here. I'll do all I can to stay out of your way."

"I'll show you some of the easier ways to get here that don't involve a lake and a siren."

I laughed. "Thank you. That would be greatly appreciated."

We spent the next hour coming up with a basic schedule of lesson times, and times that I would be here just to keep him from going a little too far insane. As he had seen a number of rehearsals, he knew how the schedules flowed and in the end he gave me my own copy so that I could keep track of everything in my head. After talking about lesson times, we talked about what I was interested in learning and what I had already learned. My technique was adequate in his eyes, though I thought I was pretty flawless. I loved to play Haydn, and Beethoven, while he introduced new names like Chopin, and Debussy.

"We're slowly entering a new age of music, I think. Music that is more than just chordal harmonies and simple melodies. Beethoven is going to lead us there." Erik poured over his piano scores which he promised he would find me exact copies of that were not covered in markings. When he moved away to pull other music off the shelves, I looked over the pages of sheet music that were covered in his writing. I was amazed at how legible it was! Most men's handwriting I had seen was completely illegible and almost took an hour or two to decipher. What struck me the most was that whatever he wrote was more about the expression of the music rather than any technical about it. He seemed to be more moved by the soul of the music rather than anything else.

He had just sat down a new score when my stomach made its presence known. I put my hand over it and chuckled nervously.

"Sorry. I guess I haven't eaten anything but the little I had of tea at Grandmama's."

"I can fix that."

"Oh please don't go to any trouble. Just take me back up and…"

"There's a kitchen here in my home. I suppose it's been a while since either of us ate." His cryptic reply confused me but I pressed on.

"Tell you what. I'll start by paying you back now and make us something to eat."

"That isn't necessary. You're my guest. And I can't believe you know your way around the kitchen."

"I'm full of surprises, Erik. Now are you going to show me where the kitchen is or do I have to start poking my nose into ever room I can find?"

He froze as if suddenly realizing that I could find something he did not want me to find and it gave me cause to wonder. What sort of secrets was he hiding in this house? And did I really want to find them?

"Have it your way then. Let's go." He gently took my arm and guided me out of the sitting room and down a hallway. He pointed out the library, and music room to me as well as a guest bedroom and a study. Two rooms however were not given certain names but I knew from how he avoided my questions that I was not to go in them. One was obviously his room, and I had no desire to enter the room of a confirmed bachelor.

"Here's the kitchen, then. You sure you'll be alright?"

The kitchen had a small eating area adjoined to it. I laid my shawl on the nearest chair and pushed my hair over my shoulders. "I'll be fine. You go about your business, and I'll let you know when my concotion is ready."

His eyes, which I suddenly realized to be brown with very visible gold flecks, widened and his lips parted.

"Kidding, Erik." I laughed and pushed him out of the kitchen. I was surprised to find this kitchen so very well clean, but considering he was a bachelor, I had no doubt that this was the least used room in the house. After a thorough search, however, I found it to be well stocked in fruits and vegetables as well as bread, and eggs. I even found a rotisserie chicken, just waiting to be dug into. My mind scrambled for ideas and then I unbuttoned the cuffs of my sleeves, rolled them up and got to work.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, I stepped out of the kitchen and called for Erik. "It's ready!" He didn't answer, but I did hear his footsteps make their way towards me. It was unearthly quiet, down here, I could hear the faintest sound. I was going to have to find someway to bring some noise in around her or else I'd go crazy. I went back inside the kitchen and took off the apron that I had found hanging in the pantry. I hung it back up and stood by the table waiting for Erik to come in. The expression on his face at seeing what I had laid out on the table was not insulting, rather amusing. He knew so very little about me and what I had done with my life that it was quite understandable that he would be shocked I knew my way around the kitchen and knew the difference between bowl and a pot.

"You'll catch flies you keep standing there with your mouth open," I teased, instantly snapping him out of his daze.

"I'm sorry…it's just…"

"Apologies aren't necessary when there are things you don't know about." I brushed it aside and motioned for him to sit down at the table. I hadn't prepared anything grand, just simple chicken sandwhiches with sides of sliced fruits, vegetables, and cheese. I had managed to toast the bread over a fire I was surprised to find burning. I'd made coffee and had taken some more of the bread and put it back over the fire sprinkled with sugar and nuts. If he thought _this_ was astonishing, he was in for a pleasant surprise.

He sat down and a few minutes we sat in companionable silence as the two of us ate our meal. I was halfway finished before I broke the silence.

"You're home is very beautiful. Did you build it all yourself?"

"Yes," he replied, taking a sip of his coffee.

"How long did it take you to build it?"

"How did you learn to make such excellent coffee?"

A teasing and good natured question it was, but I could see that I had stepped on unwalkable ground. If one of us didn't take the first step and say something about who we were and where we came from, nothing would ever get accomplished because we wouldn't be able to understand each other. But I wasn't ready…not yet. And I knew he wasn't either.

"Let's just say my mother taught me." I smiled and took a sip of my own coffee. For the rest of our meal and all through clean up, which he helped me with, we talked about the weather, music we liked, and music we didn't liked. He talked about books he had read, and I told him about books I had only dreamed of reading. We talked about the managers and their silly ways of doing things, about the Prima Donna whom we both liked exceedingly, and about the Opera. I hadn't seen it, Erik had selected it himself. We talked about evrything and anything we could except the one thing that mattered…ourselves. And when I left, Erik showed me a more suitable way of leaving, and he promised me that he would come get me tomorrow after my duties were over so we could begin our lessons. The gondulet was fun and relaxing, but I think what happened today made him a little uncomfortable as it did to me.


	19. The First Lesson

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik. I mean...have you tried owning him? It's hard!**

**AN: I want to thank everyone who reviews my chapters. I love getting the e-mail notifications when someone has reviews or favorites my work. The notifications usually come when I least expect or, like today, when I'm really upset! Everyone who reads/reviews/favorites is the reason I've gone this far and the reason why I'll keep going! Black ribbon roses to you all!**

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Chapter 19

"No! That's wrong!"

I lifted my hands off the keys for the umpteenth time, my frustration finally getting the better of me. "I'm sorry, but how can it be wrong if that's how the music makes _me_ feel? Interpretation is all about perspective!" I stood up and walked away from the instrument feeling as if I had to deal with one more of Erik telling me how it should or should not be played I would do serious harm to the black wood and ivory keys. Our first lesson had started off well, with him listening to my technical work with scales, arpeggios, in all the keys, and then how I played Bach. Bach was as dry as the desert, but if played correctly could astonish everyone who listened. It had taken me quite some time to like his work. However, our lesson had taken a complete nose dive when he asked for me to play a waltz written by Franz Schubert.

"And how can I feel anything really deep about a simple waltz? There's no room for rubato or interpretation!" I picked up my skirts so that I could show him what I meant. I did a few simple one-two-three steps, dancing around in a circle. "One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three." I put the emphasis on one probably a bit too emphatically but I had to prove my point. "It's a dance that moves with strict rhythm and timing. There is no chance to change anything because you carry the dancers."

He sighed and rubbed at his head. "This is not going well." He sat down in the chair next to the bench, hanging his head in his hands.

I dropped my skirts and walked over to him. I sat on the bench and took his hands away from his face. I waited until he looked at me before I spoke. "Only because you expect me to take your word blindly without any say of my own. Interpretation is subjective and based upon what I know. I cannot feel as deeply as you, and cannot see the music as you do, because your experiences have been different from my own."

He smiled weakly and shook his head.

"What are you thinking? I am not a mind reader, you know. You're the one with the bag of tricks." I smiled up at him still holding his hands in my own.

"This is not going well," he repeated.

"We've been at this for well over an hour and a half. My hands are not used to this kind of work. I mean, it's been a while since I've practiced so much." I looked down at my fingers still entwined around his and marveled at how his hands felt. They weren't rough and extremely calloused, but they were hands of a well seasoned musician who played more than just the piano. I took a moment and examined his fingertips finding there to be small calluses on the left hand but not the right.

"You play the violin, don't you? Or at least, some sort of stringed instrument." I turned his hands over and looked at the black onyx ring he wore on his right hand. Hard working musician, and elegant gentleman was a balance uncommon in my knowledge.

"Yes…" he whispered, answering my question. "I think I've played violin longer than anything else."

"I was once tried to learn the harp, but found it to be a little too much for my hands."

"You probably weren't positioning your hands properly. You have long fingers which would do well with the harp. You already have quite a reach on the piano."

I laughed. "Yes, my last tutor said the same thing." For a moment we both sat there in silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. Though I was uncertain of my companion's thoughts, I was felt a strange breathlessness sitting so close to Erik. His mask, something I tried not to stare at, was white porcelain and it perfectly hid whatever deformity scarred his face. His hair was black as midnight and it was currently smoothed back on his head and he appeared to have every single meticulous detail in place. It was his eyes, however, that gave it all away. His brown eyes reminded me of the chocolate sweets my mother would sneak me when I had been a good girl. But they held unspeakable sadness and pain that I was sure I had never experienced. Unrequited love was one of the most difficult hardships a person could live with. Or at least, so I had read. "Perhaps we should call it a day?"

"Giving up?" He turned his hands in mine and held them.

"No, but I'm not going to do what you want me to do either. Who knows. Tomorrow is a new day and I could probably play it flawlessly."

He laughed and I was surprised to find how much I liked that sound. It was deep and rich, but I could tell from the way he spoke that his voice was not low enough to be a bass. I wondered what it would be like to hear him sing. Everyone was pressuring me a bit to be a part of the choir, and I think even Erik wanted to hear what I could do with a couple bars of melody, but I refused.

"All the same, I should probably be getting back. Aunt is going to be wondering where I am." I started to get up, but he retained his hold on my hands. I looked back at him, confused. "Erik, what is it?"

"You will come back, won't you?"

"You think because of one disagreement about music I won't come back?" I couldn't tell if he was in jest or in earnest. "Erik, when we get past our differences in how we see things, I'm sure our lessons will run along smoothly. And I'll come back tomorrow so that I can keep you company. Rehearsals will be done at one and I shall have the rest of the evening to myself and I will come down then."

"I'll meet you at the chapel then."

It had become our meeting spot. He would come for me there, and I would return there. I could easily find my way back to my room from the chapel and no one would really wonder too much about a girl going to say her prayers as often as I did. I was still in mourning for my mother, so it was a fairly good way to avoid any suspicion that I was sneaking off.

"I'll keep my usual practice regime since I now have so much music to learn."

"That'll change in a few weeks. You're being paid of course."

"Yes." It wasn't much but it was enough to keep me alive. And I was grateful to be at least receiving some sort of monetary means. "And I also have my fee from being Madame Carrolton's accompanist."

"You have enough?"

I glared at him. "I will not accept your charity, if that's what you're implying."

"Did I say that?"

"You didn't have to."

"I thought you weren't a mind reader."

"Well, only when it's such an easy read."

He sighed. "Come on, let's get you back to your Aunt. God only knows I don't need her worrying about some terrible thing I wouldn't do to you."

I stood up, only to realize that he had not let go of my hands, which was a pleasant thought to me. It seemed as if we were becoming friends, which was I'm sure what mother would have wanted for me to do. Erik didn't deserve to be shut out from all human converse and from all society. What he did deserve was kindness and for someone to at least listen to him and to make him feel as if he wasn't the only person alive in this darkness. I was only too happy to oblige, and I was sure that Mama was somewhere up there smiling down on my good deeds.

* * *

Erik deposited her quite gracefully into the chapel and only until the last possible moment did he drop her hand. She had reached out to him, to hold his hands, and he did not want to let their time end so quickly. True she had told him that she would come back, but he found letting her go to be quite difficult to do, considering he had no real guarantee she would return.

"Until tomorrow?" He asked, catching her just before she reached before the doorway.

"Are you so afraid I won't return?" She turned and looked back at him, and he saw only curiosity lying in the eyes that, in the candle light, were nearly white.

Erik couldn't bring himself to answer her. She walked back over and she stood so close that he could smell the subtle scent of her jasmine perfume.

"I'd like to think of us as friends." She took his hands once more and he was tempted to not let her go. Human contact of such a kind and gentle nature was foreign to him and he wanted to hold onto it forever. But wasn't that how he'd lost Christine? By keeping her against her will?

"Friends?"

"Surely you've had at least a friend before…" she whispered.

He looked away uncomfortable. Friends had always been a commodity he had no time to make or to keep.

"Well, you shall have one now. And I'll be back tomorrow. I promise." She smiled and dropped his hands. She turned away and walked towards the door. Just before she crossed the threshold she said, "I'll be practicing late tonight. You're more than welcome to drop by." And then, she was gone.

Erik's thoughts were confused and in a little bit of a mess as he returned to his underground home. As he entered the music room, he could already tell a change had been made. Maybe not in him, but definitely in the place where he lived. When it was apparent he wasn't looking, or had gone to get some music, Anne had unconsciously tidied the piano and his organ. He looked over to where she had sat and found that she had left the black shawl she wore in mourning for her mother. A visit to her late night rehearsals would definitely be in order so he could return it.

In just two days, Anne had proved herself to be a woman that was completely unlike anyone had ever known. Well, that wasn't entirely true. She did remind him of someone he remembered. Someone from long, long ago that he would have probably considered a friend. His thoughts were not of Christine as he walked past the room that still had the mannequin, sketches, and paintings. He walked into his room and opened the drawer of his nightstand. In it were possibly the only things that connected him to a past he had rather forget. There was one thing that he sought for. It was a photo frame that within held a photo…well, more of a self-portrait. The portrait was done by a young lady that had once been in the ballet corp. They had been friends, and nothing more, but she had made sure that when she had married and rose to places he could only dream of, that her dear friend, Erik, had something to remember her by. There had been no letters after she had left the Opera House for England. Only Madame Giry to tell him of what happened to her, and after a few years there was nothing to be told as even she lost contact with the woman who was drawn in this portrait. He poured over the picture trying to find some resemblance of Anne but couldn't find any. The spirit was definitely the same, though, and as he put the photo away he wondered why Anne wouldn't look nothing like her mother.

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**AN: Bam! What do you think of that twist? Well, it's not much of a twist but it's an idea I've been toying with for a while. I'm hoping I've not stepped into anything by going down that plot train. Be on the look out! We'll have blasts from the past coming soon!**


	20. Night talks and Nightmares

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne just currently resides in my head until she's done telling her story.**

**AN: Okay, to let some of you know, I'm a NANOWRIMO girl which is the National Novel Writing Month where you try to write 50,000 words during the month of November. I decided not to start a new novel ( it would mean I wouldn't be writing about Anne/Erik ) and instead decided to use this story as my NANO. However, Chapter 14 was my starting point since that was posted during the month of November. That's why I'm pushing out all of these chapters. Hope you all are enjoying reading this as much as I am writing! Erik dedicates a song to you each time you favorite/follow/review!**

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Chapter 20

"Anne, your help is been invaluable during rehearsals!" Meg clamored, plopping herself down on her bed. "I've never seen someone play as well as you do."

I laughed at her silliness. I was standing in front of my dresser, taking the pins out of my hair. I had been practicing with the troupe for about a week now, and I was enjoying it very much. It was tiring work, but it was a great feeling to be a part of something that brought such great intrinsic rewards to me.

"Well, Meg, there are many that play far better than I."

"But you play so effortlessly!" She crossed her legs and rested back on her hands. "And you're a completely different person!"

"I'm the same Anne, Meg. I don't undergo make any great transformation when I play. You're quite silly, Meg." I massaged my scalp and picked up my brush.

"Yes, I am. But that's what makes me, me!" She stood up and took my brush from my hands. "Here, let me do that. You work so hard!"

I let her pull me over to my bed where I sat down and she sat behind me, running the brush through my hair. I wasn't going to lie, my hands and arms were tired after all the work I had been putting in. I had very little time to learn the music for the Opera, and there was also the music for Madame Carrolton's lesson, as well as my own music to learn.

"You do look tired, Anne, if you'll allow me to say so."

"Yes, Meg. I am tired, but you brushing my hair makes me feel better." I smiled at her before turning back around to let her finish. My mother used to brush my hair before we lived with Grandmama and sometimes, when the nightmares came, she would come and sit with me and then she would brush my hair to help lull me back to sleep. After a while, I learned to stifle my screams of terror into my pillow but mother always knew the next morning when the nightmares had come. I was always a complete wreck and it looked like I hadn't slept in weeks. I was grateful that the nightmares hadn't come since I came to the Opera House, but I knew it was only going to be a matter of time. I was never safe for long.

"Anne?" Meg had scooted over next to me and she was looking at my face. "You're crying! What's wrong?"

I sniffed and dabbed at my eyes. "Nothing…just…thinking about my mother." Telling her the truth would solve nothing and it would only cause her to worry. Aunt already worried enough over me. I didn't need someone else to stress over me.

"Well, you'll feel better after some sleep." She hopped down off the bed and pushed my shoulders down towards my pillow. "Luckily, tomorrow's Sunday so we all get to sleep in and have a good day of rest. I'm going shopping with Mama, but I think it would be good if you slept for the day."

I knew exactly what would make me feel at ease and would help me get plenty of rest. I was due at eleven to spend the early afternoon with Erik. He said he would be composing, but I was more than welcome to practice or use his library. I would probably end up staying the entire day if he would allow me to. It had been almost two weeks since my first lesson and I had now had them regularly. Twice a week I would find a way down for my lesson which usually lasted for an hour and a half. The lesson would then transition into the two of us talking, or me going off to the library while he did whatever he pleased. I usually made some sort of dinner, and once surprised him with a pastry I learned from that dark time.

"Now you look happy, Anne. You certainly are strange."

"Thank you, Meg. I'll take that as a compliment."

"Most people think it improper to be anything but proper."

I smiled and sat up. I took her hand and made sure she was looking at me. "You have to understand, Meg, that I spent a long time doing what I was told and doing everything I could to please those that mattered the most to me. Now, with Mama gone and me in a new country, I find that I have the freedom to choose for myself. I learned that conformity was not going to bring me happiness, and I know what people with money do to those without money."

"So you'd rather be poor and happy…"

"Than rich and miserable," I finished for her.

"But I don't understand."

"Do you love to dance?"

"I love it more than anything else in the world!" Her entire face lit up, and her eyes sparkled.

"Does it make you happy?"

"Yes!"

"That's something you cannot buy. That sort of happiness cannot be bought or sold with anything. Dancing makes you feel as if you've come alive. We're all different people when we are doing the things we love."

Meg thought for a moment, apparently turning my words over in her head. I loved Meg, dearly. She was a sweet girl with such a good disposition, but she was naïve. She only had her own close circle and her mother sheltered her almost too much.

"I think I understand you a little better now, Anne."

I smiled. "But you still want a rich husband."

"Who wouldn't?!" She cried, jumping up and putting my brush away. "I would take care of mother and she wouldn't have to live at the Opera House and everything would be alright."

"But living at the Populaire makes her happy. And Meg, you would never be able to dance again. You would have children, and would have to give up your dancing career entirely."

"That is why I shall never marry someone who doesn't let me continue my career." She nodded affirmatively letting me know that her mind was made up.

It wasn't that simple. It was never that simple. Women don't get to have both the love of a man and the love of their career. When they married, they became a dutiful housewife obeying every command given to them by their overbearing husbands. There was no time for anything else. But Meg did not want to listen, and she was fully determined to believe that she was right. There was nothing else I could say on the subject, I settled into bed, and Meg blew out the candles.

I woke up in a cold sweat, my face buried into my pillow. The nightmare had come again and, as always, it terrified me. The fear, the unrelenting terror, gripped me from my deepest core to where I was numb to anything but the horror. I was crying softly, and I buried my face into my hands as I sat up. I could still see the face…that face so distorted, deformed it was hardly a face in the darkness of my dreams. I could still hear the voice, the voice that dripped with venom like a poisonous snake. The memories pulled at me like a swimmer caught in the current of the sea. I was threatened with being pulled under the ocean of my own nightmares and never resurfacing.

I took a few deep breaths and dried my eyes, all sleep now gone from me. I couldn't sleep again because with it would return the horrors of my past. What I had seen…what I had…experienced was too much for me to deal with and so it was locked away like the dark secret it was in the recesses of my mind. It had happened so long ago, but even now I didn't feel safe from him. I knew I had nothing left to fear because he would never find me and he wouldn't even know me if he did. I was no longer the girl twelve but the woman of twenty-five. I was twice the age I was then, and twice the woman. Yet, why was I still plagued with this fear, this dread, this horror that should no longer haunted me? I was safe. I was free. He could no longer harm me.

Silently, I got out of bed and walked over to my trunk that was at the foot of my bed. I lit a candle and softly opened the trunk, trying to avoid the creaks so I would not wake Meg. I fumbled out in the bottom of the trunk and found the latch that popped open the secret compartment that held the box from Mama. I pulled out the letter and by the soft candle light, read her words of tender love and encouragement. I felt comforted, as if she was right there in the room with me. I kissed the parchment and tucked it back into the envelope. Looking in the box, I pulled out a locket that I hadn't seen since the family photo we had all taken together so long ago. Inside was a picture of Mama, but the other side was blank. I found it strange that Mama would have the locket and only put a picture of herself in it, and not a picture of Papa, or something of me and Elizabeth.

I was glad I had a picture of Mama, regardless, and I slipped the chain over my head. After returning the box to its hideaway, I closed the trunk and sat on top of it. I looked at Mama's picture thinking of something she once told me after we had moved to Grandmama's and the nightmares came with greater frequency.

_"We all have dreams, and we all have nightmares. But we overcome the nightmares because of our dreams. Do not dwell so much on the terrors of the night for they are always gone when the sun breaks over the horizon. Your nightmares will have power over you, only if you let them."_

How I missed her and her words of tender care and love. I wiped away a tear and closed the locket. I tucked it underneath my nightgown, determined now to always wear it. Comforted by her memory, I decided to brave sleep once more. I blew out the candle, straightened the covers of my bed and climbed in. I said a soft prayer for peace and a restful night, and closed my eyes in slumber. The next time they opened, Meg was already gone, and the small time piece in our room read nine-thirty. I breathed a sigh of relief and got out of bed. However, when I got out of bed and I turned around to make it, I looked in disbelief at the sight before me.

It was a complete mess. I had thrown the pillows off, and the sheets were entirely untucked, and the quilt was practically hanging off the bed. Apparently, my sleep had been a fitful one and that was not going to bode well for me. Already, I felt weary with sleep that had been denied to me, and I wondered about getting back into bed and not pushing myself today. I thought it entirely ridiculous since I knew all that I needed to get better was to see Erik and to spend some time with him.

"_Doing things for others always makes you feel better._" My mother once said, and I was determined to take her advice. I made my bed and then looked the mirror and found that my hair had faired just as well as my bed. Despite my frustration, I gently ran the brush through my hair and pulled it back with a few pins. Having my hair up so often only caused me to have headaches. As I tried to get dressed, I found my legs to be wobbly and I had to take a great deal of time to get ready. My head felt as if it had been stuffed with cotton and my ears were slightly ringing. I put it off to the restlessness and nothing serious. I needed to see Erik, and once I was doing what I was supposed to be doing everything would be fine…just fine.

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**AN: What sort of past is she hiding? How will Erik react? Leave your ideas in the reviews! **


	21. Falling Ill

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne just currently resides in my head until she's done telling her story.**

**AN: Erik sings a song to you each time you favorite/follow/review!**

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Chapter 21

Everything was not fine. Anne had been in his house for all of thirty minutes and he'd been unable to concentrate on the sheet music in front of him. Anne had arrived, as promised, but there was something off about her. She said she was fine, but clearly she was not.

"I'm better now that I'm here, Erik. It makes me feel better seeing you."

He chose not to take those words for anything more than what they were…words. "You need to sit down somewhere. You look unsteady on your feet."

"A nice book would be nice. I'll get started on lunch for us here soon."

"You will do no such thing if you're ill."

"I'm not ill, Erik!" Her eyes flashed fire, and he thought that she as okay if she could come at him with fire like that. So, he took her to the library so she could read and he returned to the music room to work on a waltz but all that he came up with were half-attempted melodies of something that was just beyond his reach. His mind was down the hall with the girl that was definitely a woman because she thought she was all right when it was so obvious she was not! Why were people like that? Ballet brats forced themselves to practice until their feet bled, and singers sang until their throats were nearly lost or, worse, damaged forever. Instrumentalists practiced until their hands and wrists were completely unusable due to carpel tunnel. It made no sense why people would push themselves to such a degree to make themselves entirely ineffectual in rehearsals. Things were thrown off when people did not take proper care of themselves. Rehearsals were off schedule, and everything could come to a halt even if one person thought they were able to go on with the show.

Muttering a curse, he played the fire out of his organ trying to get his mind off of the one person he should not be focusing on right now. One piece transitioned to a second, and a third, and then a fourth. Only when he had reached the conclusion of his fifth did he take his hands off the keys and breathe.

"You've never played like that before," Anne whispered.

Erik swirled around. "How long have you been standing there?!"

"Since the middle of your first piece. I have never heard you play so strongly and forcefully before."

"I…had to get my mind off of…things." He ran his hand through his hair, frustrated and annoyed.

"I'm sorry. I'll leave if you want me to."

Erik realized that he had spoken too harshly and held out his hand to her. "No, it's alright. You can come in for a while." He stood up and watched her walk in, carrying a book in her hands.

"What have you been reading?"

Anne sat down in a chair and held the book out to him. "Shakespearean sonnets. I had no idea you would have them. They seem a little bit…romantic for you."

He smiled and took the book from her. He flipped the well worn pages, thinking over the person who gave the book to him. "Well, the words offer adequate beginning lyrics to my compositions."

"Oh…I hadn't thought of that." She took the book back and held it close her. "I keep forgetting that there is more to you than just a musician."

"There's more than just one thing to any man…or woman." He gave her a pointed look, because she too was always coming out with some new facet of character that took him by surprise. "You yourself are quite a surprise."

She smiled. "Thank you. And speaking of surprises…" She slowly got up to her feet and gripped the arm of the chair for support. "It's lunch time."

"You're not making anything in your condition."

She glared back at him, putting her hands on her hips. "Condition? Nothing is wrong with me. I am perfectly capable of making lunch, so you go back to your music and I'll call you when it's done."

Perhaps it was foolish to let her go, but he had to remember that she was an independent woman, capable of making her own choices, and living with the consequences. So, he let her go and he went back to his work. Unfortunately, he couldn't. He worried about Anne and the effects all of the rehearsing and practicing was having on her health. Was he pushing her too hard? They had only been at this for almost two weeks and if she couldn't handle all of this…than maybe…?

All coherent thought went out the window when a crash came from the kitchen. He didn't even bother with calling to make sure if he was okay, but darted down the hall and found Anne on the floor, a pitcher, that had been filled with water, broken on the floor.

"Anne? Anne!" He knelt down next to her and turned her face to him. She wasn't responding and her skin felt hot to the touch. He checked her hands and head to make sure that there was no blood, before picking her up and carrying her to the spare room. "Stupid girl," he muttered underneath his breath. "Why couldn't you just listen?"

He laid her down on the red coverings, and picked up the black blanket that was kept at the foot of the bed. As he put it over her, she stirred and opened her eyes. He breathed a sigh of relief as she looked at him. At least nothing serious had happened.

"What happened?" She asked, looking around the room and trying to figure out where she was.

"You passed out in my kitchen." His ire rose and he was irritated with her again. "I told you, you shouldn't have been in there when it's obvious you're not well."

"I'm fine, Erik." As if trying to prove her point, she sat up but she leaned to the side and Erik had to grab her in order to keep her from falling off. "Oh, my head." She put her hand against her forehead.

"You're going to lay here, while I go get Madame Giry. If I knew what was wrong with you, I'd carry you up myself, but I don't want to risk anything."

"Honestly, I'm…"

"If you say you're fine one more time, I'll throttle you!" It was an idle threat and it was obvious she knew it, but it was said with enough force that she clamped her mouth shut and laid back down. He sighed and adjusted the blanket. "Just please promise me you'll stay right here in this bed until I get back."

"Meg said she and her mother were going shopping. They may or may not be back yet."

"I'll leave a note, but regardless, you _will_ stay in this bed and this is the final word I will say on the subject."

For a moment, it looked like Anne was going to argue but after a moment's pause, she nodded her head signaling that she understood. Before Erik left, however, he brought her a glass of water that was mixed with some laudanum. She drank it without even suspecting anything and was out before he had even left her room to go find Madame Giry.

* * *

"Anne? Anne!"

I heard Aunt Giry's voice rousing me from the world of dreams and I slowly responded to her pleas. At first, everything was fuzzy when I opened my eyes, but slowly the room came into focus. I saw Aunt Giry's face above me and she looked worried…almost afraid.

"Aunt, what's wrong?"

"You passed out and nearly scared us to death!"

I slowly sat up, finding myself to still be a little unsteady. I tried to piece together the events of my day but found it to be a little confusing when I looked around and saw that I was in an unfamiliar room. The wood walls were all dark and the furniture was all black. The only color came from the red carpets, and red fabric on the bed.

"Where am I?"

"This is the spare bedroom in Erik's home. Do you not remember?"

"I don't remember falling asleep in this room, if that's what you mean."

"You passed out while trying to make lunch, Anne. You had a fever, but I think with your rest and the laudanum, it broke."

"Laudanum? You mean he drugged me?!"

"Just to help you sleep, Anne. Apparently you were pretty defiant in staying here."

"I was fine!"

"You could barely stand up!" Erik's voice boomed from the doorway and I felt the power of his voice go all the way to my bones. "You insisted on doing everything as you always do, without help or assistance from anyone."

"I've done it for all my life. I don't know why now should be any different! Besides, I'm fine now, so I can now make lunch."

Aunt Giry chuckled and I wondered what was so funny. "You can't, dear. Dinner maybe, but not lunch."

"How long have I been asleep?!"

"It's nearly six o'clock. You've slept the day away." She climbed up onto the bed and sat next to me. "I think you've been overtaxing yourself. Between your lessons with Erik, your accompanying for Madame Carrolton, your rehearsals with the troupe, not to mention your own late night practices and coming down here as often as you can…well, your body just couldn't take it anymore. Meg also said that you were having trouble sleeping."

"How does she…"

"She's a light sleeper, and she said your bed was a mess this morning when she woke."

I hung my head, embarrassed at not being strong enough. "I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry about, Anne. Many people have made the same mistake as you. We learn from it and move on. Of course, I couldn't have asked for you to have fallen ill in any better place."

"What do you mean?" My head shot up.

"Well, I only just got here. Meg and I were gone all day. Erik's been taking care of you."

I knew that my mouth hung open and my eyes widened in shock. I hadn't imagined Erik would have looked after me while I was ill.

"It was only natural, Anne. Don't look so surprised."

I looked behind Aunt to express my gratitude to Erik despite inconveniencing him, but he wasn't there. He was already gone. At least, considering this was his house, he would be back.

"Do you feel like you could make the trip back up?" She asked.

I smiled and nodded. "I feel much better now. But I would like to tell Erik thank you. He didn't have to be so attentive."

"I think he's in the music room. You go say your goodbyes and thank yous and I'll meet you by the lake's edge." She left me and I made my way to the music room. Strangely, the door was shut. When I tried the handle, it was locked.

"Erik? Are you in there?" I knew he was, because I could hear papers rustling about and he was walking around. "Erik, please open the door." No reply. I had offended him in some way? Did he feel upset because I had been so foolish and gotten myself and he had to take care of me?

"Erik…I'm sorry for being so foolish and not listening to you. I'm sorry for inconveniencing you the way I did, but I would like to thank you for taking care of me. You are a good friend, I'm glad that it was here I got sick." Silence. "Erik, will you please open the door?" Nothing, but I heard the slight sound of breathing. Was he standing right there next to the door? "I'll…come back for our lesson on Tuesday, if I'm still welcome." I stepped away from the door expecting him to open it and to…do something! Yell at me, argue with me, or tell me how stupid I was…but nothing.

"Goodbye, Erik." I left his house and joined Aunt where she stood next to a secret all that would lead us back to my room. Before the wall slid back shut behind us, I turned back and saw the window of the music room. The light was on, as were all the lights in the house, but I could see a faint flash of black and a gloved hand disappear from behind the curtain, as if he had been spying on us as we left but then retreated when he got caught. I sighed, and left.


	22. The Next Time We Meet

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne just currently resides in my head until she's done telling her story.**

**AN: He'll always be there singing songs in your head if you review/favorite/follow!**

* * *

Chapter 22

I spent the rest of my Sunday evening resting, or rather I stayed in bed for the rest of the day. Jane came in and tended to me like the good friend she was, and Meg talked on and on some of the new things that she and her mother bought that day. She had found a new hat, a new pair of gloves, and found some new ribbons and lace for making up some of her old things.

"And, Mama has said that I can use some of my earnings to buy a new evening gown! The managers are putting on some sort of party in a few weeks to open up the season, and I have been invited."

Some of the troupe had managed to take time out of their lives to come by and make sure I was alright. Some of the ballet girls and chorus members came by to make sure I was feeling better. Madame Carrolton didn't come in person but she did send me a card with a note written on it, wishing for my speedy recovery. The only person who I refused to see was Faucher. Just hearing his name made my skin crawl and I couldn't really place the reason why. His attentions earlier in the summer had been unwanted and very forward, yes, but wasn't that how most boys acted?

"Why won't you see him, Anne?" Aunt Giry had asked, when Meg and Jane had stepped out of the room for a moment.

"When I went to have my first lesson with Erik, I caught Faucher following me."

"How did you catch him?"

I bit my lip, a little nervous at answering her question. "Well, I sensed someone was following me and then Erik grabbed me out of nowhere and pulled me into a corner."

"What?"

"Don't worry, I'm fine. But we both watched Faucher walk past, obviously looking for me. And I didn't like the look on his face." I gave her such a pointed look that she understood my meaning perfectly.

"You can't avoid him forever, Anne, but we shall do everything we can to keep him separate from you, if that's possible."

"Thank you. Now, tell me about this party Meg is going to be attending."

She stayed with me until Meg came back and then we prepared for bed. When Meg had retired for the evening, I made a list of all of my obligations and a list of all the things I personally wanted to get accomplished. I came up with an easy, schedule as my obligation to the troupe was going to be over in a week or two since the orchestra was about finished learning their parts. I rested well, but I was troubled about what I had done to cause Erik to be so upset with me, aside from being so stupid. I realized, now, that I should have been more aware of my health since I had pushed myself too hard. I had pushed myself in order to keep my mind focused on the present rather than on the past…and my mother. I couldn't let myself fall ill again. I couldn't afford it.

Monday came and went without any great upheaval. Rehearsal was easy, since I knew all of my music by now. It was staging for the troupe, and choreography for the ballet. Aunt was kind enough not to push me to play so much as the corp apparently needed to know their rhythm before they could learn anything else.

"If you can't feel the beat within you, then you make the orchestra look bad. The orchestra doesn't follow you. It's the other way around."

At times, I thought she was hard on them, but then I realized that she was hard on everyone…even me, when she chose to be. She demanded perfection, but she wanted everything to look good. I thought at times, she was the hardest on Meg, regardless of the fact that she was her own daughter. If Meg wasn't on pointe, she would know it. If her arms looked like noodles, she would know it. If she was even a split second behind, she would know it. I wondered why Meg didn't break under all the constant nagging, but it was apparent she desired perfection of herself. Like mother, like daughter, I supposed. But there was no sign from Erik. Not even a note.

I dreaded Tuesday, since it was the day that I was to go down to see Erik for my lesson. It was the day that rehearsals were done early since the painting crew needed the stage to paint, and everyone had to be refitted for their costumes. Aunt Giry worked her girls so hard they almost always lost weight, and Madame Carrolton worked herself into a frenzy by eating one too many chocolates.

I had left rehearsal without anyone seeing me, since I was the pianist and not many people took notice of me. I had managed to avoid Faucher fairly well. He seemed quite intent on finding me alone, and I had no desire to see him…alone or otherwise. I made quick time returning to my room to pick up my music, but as I made my way to the hallway that would lead me down the underground, I was hesitant in going. I was probably going down, only to be sent back, yet I was puzzled as to why he would be so upset with me that was well over forty eight hours ago.

I looked around me to make sure that no one was following me, and then pressed against the false wall which gave way. I stepped through, heard the door close behind me, and I picked up the torch that he kept burning for me. I took it as a positive sign that I was welcome, thinking he would not want me to fall to any harm if I came to see him for my lesson. It hadn't taken me very long to remember my way down because I had a tendency to look no where other than where I was going. I made a mental note to ask him if he could show me where some of his passageways led as I would like to see more than just what commonly known of the Opera House.

It seemed like an eternity had passed when I saw light shine from the end of the tunnel. I stepped out of the darkness into the light, smiling at the sight of the candles and his home. I placed the torch into a wall sconce and descended the few steps to reach the edge of the lake. Picking up my skirt, I made my way to his home, feeling a little fearful when I didn't hear anything coming from the inside…not even music. I thought it strange that he wouldn't be playing right now, but I made my way to the front door and raised my hand to knock.

* * *

Erik did everything in his power to keep himself from feeling happy when he opened the door and found her standing there, her hand poised to rap on his door. Happiness was not a commodity he was to allow himself to have…especially not with Anne…especially after the incidents of Sunday afternoon. But she had returned. He had let her walk out his door and had come back. That had to be some sort of sign…didn't it?

"What are you doing here?" He asked, trying to sound as brusque as he could.

"I…I'm here for my lesson." She tilted her head and looked at him quite confused at his question. He had to confess he liked the way her eyes sparkled with the glow of the candles.

"And what, may I ask, would make you think that I'm to teach you today?"

Curiosity turned to frustration than to anger so quick he wasn't prepared for it. "Look Erik, this is ridiculous. I'm sorry I passed out in your kitchen on Sunday, but I thought I could manage myself quite well. Either you move on from it, and we can continue with our arrangement, or I can see myself back up to my Aunt and Meg and we can forget that the other exist."

Now Erik was the one who was confused. "Move on?"

"Well, you holed yourself up in the music room for so long that I thought you were angry with me. But really, I am only human, and if you're going to be angry with me because I'm human…than we've got a serious issue."

"You…don't remember…do you?"

"Remember…what?"

He took hold of her hands and brought her inside. "Come sit down." He shut his front door and guided her to the music room. After situating on the divan he sat next to her, still holding on to her hands. "You were delirious on Sunday, that can be the only explanation." He took a deep breath and looked into her eyes. "While I was taking care of you…you said things."

Anne ripped her hands away and her eyes widened in fear. "What…what did I say?"

"You talked of your mother, a lot. I asked you questions…and you answered."

"That isn't fair!" She shouted, but Erik could see that it wasn't because she was angry. "You took advantage of me!"

"No, I did not! I was trying to see if you were awake and conscious." Erik stood up and paced around the room, running his hands through his hair. "You didn't tell me anything damaging, if that's what you're worried about."

"I'm not worried, Erik. I'm angry! I'm furious!"

"But I didn't know!"

"I'm pretty sure it's easy to tell what a delirious person looks like."

"Not when you've had very little contact with the human world or have you forgotten that?"

Anne was silent and hung her head in her hands. After a moment, she raised her head but it wasn't to look at him. She looked away from him and her eyes were unreadable but they appeared to be filled with tears. God, he didn't need a crying woman on his hands! He had no idea how to deal with one of those!

"What…did I say?"

He took a hesitant breath. "Anne…try to understand…"

"What," she said loudly at him. She took a breath and brought her voice down. "Did I say?"

"Nothing to incriminate you or to make you seem like a bad person."

She laughed almost maniacally and it scared him. "That is the least of my problems. But there are things about me that you should not know about." She gave him a pointed look. "If the situations were reversed, I would not take off you mask just out of curiosity to see if you were awake."

"That's not the…"

"Don't even say it! It's exactly the same thing and you know it! Now, either you answer my question, or I walk out that door and don't come back!"

He sighed, wondering what had gotten her into such a fit. It wasn't anything too terrible. Honestly, he had asked a few questions about her family…most specifically about her mother, but he had managed to find the address of her grandmother. He was intending to pay his respects to the lady who could beat such a rare person as Anne. But, any questions he may ever want to ask Anne, would seem entirely out of context if he didn't explain what he had learned on Sunday…and what had happened because of it.

"Please, Anne, sit down, and I'll explain it to you." This wasn't going to be easy, and he had no idea of how she would react, if she would even react at all. When she had made herself comfortable on the divan, he walked about the room trying to put all of his thoughts together because he couldn't start launching into his tale half told. He would have to start at the beginning, but he had to make sure that he included everything. When he felt he had it all into his mind, he sat stopped pacing, resumed his seat and took her hands again. He took a deep breath, and began his tale.


	23. I'll Protect You

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne just currently resides in my head until she's done telling her story. She's getting alone quite well with all of the other voices that reside up there. :)**

**AN: Wanna know Anne's back story? That makes both of us! Please read and review!**

* * *

Chapter 23

It had been no easy task trying to hunt down Madame Giry and her pesky daughter, Meg. Anne's words about the two of them going out of town seemed to be true as Madame Giry was not in any of her usual spots. He stealthily made his way into the ballet mistress's room and left her a note on her table. It was nothing more than simply apprising her of the situation and requesting her immediate assistance at his home. As he made his way back out of her room, he spotted a photograph on her dressing table. Upon closer inspection, he saw Maria standing with a man that could only be her husband. It was then that he saw where Anne got her looks. She had inherited her father's dark hair, pointed nose, and strong jaw, but there was still the curiosity of where she had gotten her eyes.

Putting the picture back down, he left Antoinette's dressing room and returned as quickly as he could to Anne. He had expected her to be awake, despite the laudanum, but she asleep, although it was very much apparent that she was feverish. She was thrashing about as if caught in some sort of dream she couldn't wake from. Her lips were moving as if she were trying to say something but he couldn't quite make out her words. He walked over to her bedside and sat down. He pushed her dark hair out of her eyes and was surprised when they opened wide with apparent fear. She was looking around trying to discern where she was, her breath ragged, and sweat ran down her face.

"Anne?"

She looked at him and his breath caught seeing the color of her eyes to no longer be blue but white. He hadn't seen anything so…entrancing. He put his hands on her shoulders and shook her slightly to see if she was really awake or just delirious.

"Please…protect me." Her eyes widened in panic. "He…he's coming for me."

"Who is?" His brow furrowed in confusion. No one was coming for her here as only she, and Madame Giry and very few others, none of whom were in her acquaintance, knew of this place. "No one's coming for you."

"He comes in the night." Her hands wrapped around his wrists and gripped so tightly her knuckles almost went white. "He always comes in the night…in the dark of the night he finds me." Her voice almost didn't sound like her own…she sounded lost, confused, almost like a child.

"Anne, no one's coming for you. It was just a nightmare. You're alright."

"You say that! You always say that!" She began to fight him and he struggled to keep restrain her, fearing that she would harm herself if she broke loose and made a run for the door. "You never believe me!"

Who the "you" was, Erik was not to know, for she started screaming and put her hands on her head. He knew that scream of terror. He had heard it many times ringing in his ears as Christine whisked away his mask, and any other time someone had foolishly seen his face. He took some small comfort that it was not aimed at him. He managed to hold both her wrists with one hand and he pulled her close trying to calm her down. Instead of trying to make her believe he thought her a liar, he played a long, hoping it would calm her down. "He's not coming, Anne. I'll…" He took a deep breath, hesitant to say anything lest she remember. But, if she was delirious, it was highly probable that she would not. "I'll protect you."

She looked up at him with tear filled eyes, but they were trusting eyes. "You will?" Again, her voice was not her own. The sound of a lost, innocent child rang in his ears.

"Yes, until you fall back asleep."

"But that's when he comes…" She looked around her, as if fearing for her safety.

"I'll be here, beside. I'll…protect you. I promise."

And then, she smiled at him. It was a true, unguarded smile, that lit up her face and it was one she only reserved when she talked about her love…her music. He would never have imagined that such a glimpse of sunshine would ever be bestowed towards him. She laid her head against his chest and he held her close, slowly rocking her until her breathing slowed. Her hands, which had managed to grab onto the lapels of his jacket slowly released their tight grip and fell onto her lap. When he was certain that she had fallen asleep, he gently laid her back down onto the pillows and he heard something make a soft jingle sound. He looked down and found a locket hanging from her neck. He recognized it instantly and wondered if Anne had managed to open it. Knowing that it was impossible to open without the correct key, Erik pushed the momentary fear aside and went to grab a basin of water and a towel.

For the next two hours, while she tossed in her sleep, he bathed her temples and tried to understand her almost incomprehensible words. Her words remained forever far beyond his reach, but there was only one name she said in her sleep…only one thing she repeated over and over.

"Erik."

He stayed by her side until he heard the alarms trigger the arrival of a visitor. Hoping it to be Madame Giry, he left Anne's room only a few moments and was grateful to see the ballet mistress.

"What happened?!" She looked worried and fearful. Erik wondered if she knew what Anne was hiding so deeply in her mind.

Erik led her to the spare bedroom, quickly telling her of how Anne passed out, as well as her delirious episode that had happened earlier. He watched as Antoinette checked Anne's pulse, forehead, and throat.

"Meg said that she had a restless night."

"Does she have nightmares often?"

"Last night was the first occurrence at the Opera House. Probably the break with her family triggered it. Anne's mother protected her from a lot during her life. She probably protected her daughter _too _ much."

"What do you mean?"

She sighed and looked at him. "I'm sorry. But just as you will not allow me to tell her _your _story, I will not tell you hers. That is something for her to tell, in her own timing. For now, she must not know of this incident. It could do terrible damage to her mind. She's not ready to deal with the truth."

"The truth?"

"The time between her father's death and when she went to live with her Grandmother, is tragic, but it is also filled with lies and deceit. There was much her mother hid from her…more than just her illness."

"I don't understand."

"Good, because it is not for me to tell. When she wakes up, we will tell her that she rested peacefully. Nothing more will be said on the subject."

* * *

Erik's tale was finished and I sat in almost a confused stupor…caught between shame, anger, and horror. My weakness had been exposed and I didn't remember it, but I had also been made to pretend that it didn't even happen. I couldn't quite wrap my mind around all had Erik had told me but I wasn't quite sure if I wanted to…not just yet.

"What happened then?" I asked, wanting to hear the rest without trying to comprehend what I had been already told.

"You awoke, and everything progressed as you remembered."

I stood up and went to the window. "But why did you shut yourself up in the music room without saying anything to me?"

"I was angry at myself, because I knew it was wrong to conceal the truth from you. I know what it's like to be lied to."

I took a shaky breath and rested my hands on the windowsill. "I appreciate you telling me, and I appreciate all you did for me, but you must understand that I cannot give you any further information on…what I spoke of." I rested my head on the cool glass feeling suddenly very warm.

"I don't expect you to," was his stiff reply. "You're just my student…what else would I expect from you?"

"We're friends, Erik, but you must understand that there are some things I just can't talk about!"

"What is so terrible that you won't tell me about it?"

I turned to him, my anger rising. "What is so terrible about your face that you refuse to let me see it?!"

He smirked. "You've never asked."

"Because it is not my place to ask. When you feel comfortable enough to trust me completely, then it will be at your hand…not my own. The same will apply to me. When I am ready to trust you…then I shall tell you…not before. For now…my story must be like yours. Half told."

He was silent…I had cornered him. His mask, like my tale, was the barrier that stood between us from becoming true friends, friends that were open with each other in sharing things that we would share with none other. I turned away from the window and walked over to where he sat. I took a deep breath and knelt down in front of him. I took his hands in my mine and found that my own pale fingers were trembling. I couldn't tell from what, at that precise moment.

"Thank you for telling me what happened."

"I…don't want you lied to. From what Madame Giry told me, it seemed like that's all that has happened to me."

I looked away, suddenly very angry with my Aunt but as well as my mother. "I thought mother and I had no secrets from each other. It seems that I was wrong. She lied to me about her illness…I wonder what other things she hid from me."

"Anne…"

"I was strong for my mother! I did everything to make sure that Elizabeth had everything and gave up my share for her! What was she protecting me from? Was she also afraid that I wouldn't amount to anything and that the only way that I could make myself useful was of being service to others?!"

"That's not what she meant…"

"I feel like she wasn't even my mother! I feel like she was just some person who tried to play at mother and over compensated by shielding me from everything, never letting me grow! Never letting me prove that I was strong enough to handle…handle, the world!"

I was crying now. I felt betrayed, and as lost as the girl Erik described me as during my incompetent state. "Now…now there's no one to prove anything to. She's gone, and I can't…I can't…"

"There's always someone to prove something to, and that's yourself." His hands gripped my shoulders and I looked into his eyes. "You have the power to make each day better than the last and you have the power to change yourself. You cannot change what you were…you can only change what you are."

I nodded, his words making sense, but how I could I tell him how betrayed I felt. I felt as if my entire world was built on the lies of my youth…like who I was now would have been different if my mother had just been honest with me. But, I couldn't change that now…could I? I only had what I was now…and the decisions I made now, defined me. Not the ones others had made for me when I was younger.

"Do you understand, Anne?"

"Yes, Erik. I understand."

"Good." He smiled at me and helped me to my feet. "Now…how about we cancel today's lesson and we spend the day just enjoying each other's company?"

I smiled, instantly feeling warm at that thought. "I'd like that, Erik."

"If you like, you can go grab a book or two from the library, and you can come to the music room and I'll play for you."

I was puzzled and confused at his sudden offer to play for me. Usually, he practiced by himself with me barely being able to discern anything through the thick walls of his house. But, I could see that this was his attempt at letting me in…at letting me see the man behind the mask.

"I'll be right back." I made my way to the library and picked out a few books that caught my interest and returned to the music room finding Erik devoid of his black jacket and gloves, wearing only his boots, trousers, and white shirt. Even with the mask, he was extraordinarily handsome. I was suddenly struck with how the mask seemed to be more a part of his face than anything else. It seemed to fit his bone structure perfectly. He and the mask seemed one and nothing was going to change that.

I situated myself in a chair, drew my legs up underneath me and placed an open book on my lap. "What are you going to play?" I asked, when he didn't bother to touch the keys, but just kept looking at me.

"Whatever you like."

I smiled at his thoughtfulness. "Then consider yourself to play whatever you wish. I'm sure you'll play beautifully whatever you choose."

For the next hour and a half, I listened to him to play music that was akin to what I'm sure the only angels heard in Heaven. I didn't bother to read as he played piece after piece after piece until the time came for me to return to my room.

He walked me to the false wall in the hallway, all the while holding my hand. Every now and then, he would stop and look at me, as if he were going to say something, but then he always thought better of it and continued on. I found it amusing, because I knew that if he had something to say, there was no keeping him from it. It was only until I was about to open the door, and he didn't let go of my hand that I turned to him and waited for him to say whatever it was that he had to say.

"Anne…I want you to know that I meant what I said."

I tilted my head. What on earth could he possibly mean? He had said many things to me during the course of our afternoon together. "I…don't understand."

"I mean…what I said to you on Sunday. That I'd…I'd protect you."

My eyes widened and my lips parted.

"I'm not saying that you _need_ protection, but should the time ever come that you need it…or me…I promise I'll protect you, guard you from whatever darkness comes your way."

I felt tears prick my eyes as his kind words struck my heart. He wasn't trying to take away my independence but my making me think that I was weak and unable to fend myself. He was offering his hand at being supportive of me and helping me, should the time ever arise. "Thank you, Erik. That's the kindness thing you could have ever said to me." I raised my hand to touch his unmasked cheek. "You really are a good person, Erik. I see more and more proof of that every day."

I wrapped my arms around him, surprised when he returned the embrace. I left the passageway, making sure to check and make sure no one was around. As I made my way down the hallway, I could hear the door close behind me. My mind finally went over the conversation over Erik and I had, and my anger rose. Not at just my Aunt…but at a woman I had not even met, a woman that I had only heard of. How Christine Daaé could turn down such a gentle and kind soul as Erik, meant only one of two things: She was either incredibly stupid, or was the most common flirt that ever lived.


	24. In the Parisian Streets

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne just currently resides in my head until she's done telling her story. She's getting alone quite well with all of the other voices that reside up there. :)**

**AN: FLUFF! Well, till the very end, that is. Please read and review!**

* * *

Chapter 24

I never had a chance to bring up my conversation with Erik to my Aunt, and in a way, I was very grateful. It wasn't that she was being extremely curious about the time I spent with Erik but she seemed always careful about how she talked about him. Reminding me of who he was, and what he was capable of. She also had tried to keep the entire Sunday incident hidden from me, so it made me apprehensive in talking to her about it, even though I was upset with her for lying to me.

The end of my two weeks of rehearsing with the troupe came to an end, and even my lessons with Madame Carrolton were moved to only a Saturday evening affair, if she was feeling up to it. When I went to see her, it would undoubtedly be to rehearse the music for the Opera, so my time became my own again. I had enjoyed my two weeks of rehearsals, and I had heard that there was some talk in finding me something more permanent to keep me occupied during my day, but I assured them that I was quite capable of finding some way of keeping myself busy.

I never forgot Erik's promise and, though the nightmares never stopped, I could imagine him close, watching over me and protecting me like a guardian angel would. It was silly to think of him that way, because he had proven that he was nothing more than a man, no matter how immortal he tried to make himself out to be. My lessons with him became more frequent as my time was now more available and I could devote myself to my own rehearsing without getting overly fatigued. At times, we didn't really have lesson but would just enjoy each other's company. I'd make lunch, and he would ask where I learned to make whatever was on the table. Which I would just simply smile and say that I learned it from my mother.

On one particular day, however, when Erik for some reason said he was extremely busy and everyone else was caught up in rehearsal, I decided to take a walk through the streets of Paris. It was strange, suddenly being alone, but I took it as an opportunity. Four months in the Opera House, and I had gotten to know it very well. Paris, on the other hand was almost as foreign as the day I arrived. So, I dressed in one of my new day dresses, I hadn't bothered wearing any of my new things since I hardly ever went outside. I pulled back my hair in a low chignon, and laced up my black boots. I looked in the mirror, surprised at the change that had occurred in the past month. My eyes seemed brighter, and my complexion fresher. I no longer looked like a girl who worried about her mother, or about the family she left in England. I looked like a woman confident with her future and happy with the life she was living. I laughed at myself, thinking that I had a long way to go to be any sort of confident woman.

Meg and her mother, had been kind enough to write down some directions to places that would they thought would hold my interest. The first and foremost was the Notre Dame Cathedral, a place I had only read about in Victor Hugo's, _Notre-Dame de Paris_. The novel had been an interesting read, and it was one that I couldn't put down until I had finished it. However, I did find it slightly amusing that Esmeralda was able to hold the attention of four different men. There was no way that such a woman could have been so beautiful and so perfect that she could have such a power over men…especially a man of the cloth.

My walk to the cathedral was uneventful, and I enjoyed the solitude. I got to peek into shops, watch families as they took a walk, and even passed a traveling gypsy tent. It wasn't long, until I could see the tall towers of the cathedral and my breath caught in my throat. I had yet to cross the Seine River, but the sunlight glistening off the grey stone walls was something I could never have pictured in my imagination. I made my way across the river, hardly being able to take my eyes off the imposing structure. I found my steps begin to quicken the closer I made it to the end of the bridge. I maneuvered around couples that leisurely walked arm in arm, with eyes only for each other.

As I made my way closer to the building, I marveled at how architects could have achieved such detailed work all those years ago. Everything, even from afar, seemed so intricate and advanced and I wondered how many lives had been lost in order to resurrect such a powerful building. For a moment, I simply stared up at the building, looking up at the Apostles that were gazing right back at me. The eyes held such a powerful stare, that I was sure it sent the most commonplace sinner running for the confessional.

I slowly made my way up the stairs and made my way inside as another couple was leaving. Mass had apparently just ended and there was some time until the next service. I dabbed two fingers into the basin of holy water, crossed myself and knelt down at the front of back of the aisle right in the center to show reverence of the crucifix hanging on the altar. As I made my way to where the prayer candles sat in front of the Holy Mother, I looked at the brilliant stain glass work, and stunning altar at the front of the sanctuary. The twelve stations of the cross, located on the sides of the sanctuary, were beautifully depicted by intricate paintings. What caused me to almost stop in the middle of the aisle were the flying buttresses above me. To help added support to the ceiling was the main reason they were placed, but they appeared to be such a natural part of the architecture that it seemed that it was the designer's original intent.

I knelt down in front of the prayer candles, and pulled my shawl over my head. I lit a candle for my mother and quietly said a prayer on her behalf. I hadn't been raised Catholic…I hadn't necessarily been raised anything, but my mother put her trust in someone higher than man, and raised me to be the same way. The first time I remember taking me to a Catholic church was not for Mass, but for prayer. There wasn't any place well she was more likely to feel closer to whoever felt like listening to her prayers. She told me that she wasn't necessarily praying _to_ the Holy Mother, rather she was asking Mary to intercede on her behalf. I, personally, didn't feel anything like my mother said she felt when she prayed, but I did feel a great peace settle over me. It was a relief considering everything that had happened in the past week. I knew that mother was happy that I was taking my life into my own hands and living like I wanted to live…not by someone else's rules.

I finished my silent prayer and made my way out of the sanctuary. I was almost near the door when I saw a staircase to my right. There was a clear marked "closed" sign posted over the entry way, and I knew that it had to lead to the bells of the Cathedral. I didn't want to risk going up there, but I thought what a wonderful thing it would be to have all of Paris at your feet. By day or by night, I was sure that it was such a beautiful sight to behold.

I left the cathedral feeling in a much better spirit than when I had arrived and, if I didn't have another place to go see, I would have stayed longer and probably would have attended the Mass that was beginning just as I was making my way through the doors. I managed to bypass any priest intent on getting me to stay and made my way to the Luxembourg Gardens.

I held on to the paper that Aunt gave me which had the directions clearly written out, and thankfully I did not get lost. As I made my way to the gardens and subsequently through the gardens, I couldn't help but let my mind go back to when Mama used to have a garden of her own. Nothing as grand as the one I was walking through, but a small one where she would grow flowers and put them everywhere she could in the house. Sometimes, she would let me hold the basket and she would cut the flowers. A few times, I was allowed to cut a flower if I wanted to give it to Elizabeth, or to Papa. She always seemed happy, out of the house and in her garden.

"_In nature, Anne, one can always be free and be at peace. There is nothing confining in nature…there are no walls. But we must respect it, and always be willing to tend to it. Otherwise, Nature shall seek her revenge._"

In her garden was where she would read Psalms and Proverbs to me and to try to teach me when my governess was not available. In her garden, it was where I learned to love my mother because that was where she was more than just a wife, or a mother, but a loving human being who cared for everyone and everything. If Papa yelled at her, or she was upset about something, she ran to her garden and breathed in the fresh scent of flowers growing in her sanctuary in order to calm herself and then she would return and fix whatever problem awaited her.

There was one flower in her garden that I was never allowed to go into alone. I only went with her to see her secret walk only one, and that was right before Papa died. There was a private walk way that was locked and she held the only key. She took me by the hand, and didn't let go as she undid the lock, and led me down into what seemed like a maze. There were twists and turns and I got so turned around that I was sure Mama had gotten us lost. But we came to the center and what I saw astounded me. The most beautiful red roses were in bloom and growing all over the gazebo. The buds bounced lightly in the afternoon breeze and it took my breath away.

"_This is my secret hide-a-way, Anne. I come here when I feel as if everything and everyone in the world has turned against me. Here, I remember my past and remember a friend that I left behind, and who I shouldn't have._"

I had asked her who she left behind and why she went away, but she never replied. Instead, she smiled at me and told me that whenever she made a friend that she cared for more than anything else in the world, that I should never lose them but hold fast to them forever, for they were worth more than titles, than riches, than anything else in the world.

Now, as I walked around the Medici Fountain, I thought of Erik and how he would never be able to enjoy such beautiful sights as these with me…or with anyone. He was forever locked in that terrible prison and would never see anything or be a part of anything other than the Opera House. I sat on the fountain's edge, resting my feet after almost two hours worth of walking, and listened to the sound of running water, being almost completely alone. There were no children, and hardly anyone else around and it was an incredible feeling. The fresh air, the sunlight, it was all a perfect afternoon and although it had brought back memories of home, and of a time that I could never return to, I was grateful for it all the same.

"Excuse me, miss? Are you alright?"

I had not realized that my eyes had drifted shut or that a tear sparkled on my cheek. I quickly wiped it away and stood up. I turned around to face the inquisitor and was surprised to find a woman no older than myself looking at me with quite a curious expression. She had emerald green eyes and chestnut colored hair that was piled on her head in the latest Parisian fashion.

"Yes…I…I'm fine. I guess I got lost in all of this." I gestured to the surrounding in hopes that she would understand.

"Yes…it is a pleasant spot, isn't it? I've only just recently discovered it, even though I've lived here all my life."

"I've only recently moved here, so I'm trying to get a little better acquainted with Paris."

"Where did you move from?"

"England. I live at the Opera House now."

"Do you really? I was a singer there, not too long ago."

"Really? Were you in the chorus?"

She smiled. "I was for a time, but I became the Prima Donna for a time." She extended her hand to me and introduced herself. "I'm the Vicomtess de Chagny, but please call me Christine."

I felt the blood in my veins run cold. So, the little ballet girl had returned to Paris. The one who had left Meg flat when she rose to a higher sphere had dared return to the scene of her crime. I smiled stiffly, and placed my hand in hers.

"Anne," I replied. "Anne Hillcrest.

* * *

**AN: She's back! :-) Oh, and for those who are aware of the fact that this is also part of my NANOWRIMO, this chapter contains the half point. I am over the 25,000 word mark and am halfway to finishing! I, as a writer, am very excited. :-D**


	25. A Character Revealed

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne just currently resides in my head until she's done telling her story. She's getting alone quite well with all of the other voices that reside up there. :)**

**AN: Did you know that the original Opera House did burn down in 1873 for reasons that they are still unable to determine? The Opera House was rebuilt and opened on January 5th, 1875. The setting ( according to the Webber movie ) is 1870. Chapter One of this story does begin around March/April of 1875. I just did this sort of research so the fact that these dates coincide with the original timeline...leaves my mind a little blown. If your mind just went BOOM leave a review!**

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Chapter 25

Somehow, without any possible explanation, I had managed to find myself in the Vicomtess's carriage, being given a ride to the de Chagny estate, and now was sitting out on the balcony having tea. I had tried to explain that I needed to get back to the Populaire, that I was expected, but apparently she had grown self-centered during the few years of her marriage, or the sudden rise in society had all gone to her head. She seemed to think it would be okay to uproot me from my day in order to suit her needs. What on earth could I talk to her about? I knew nothing about fashion and society and I was sure she didn't want to hear about Erik, whom she probably believed was dead. Therefore, there was nothing that could possibly interest her that I would have any knowledge in. This was a complete waste of her time, and mine. I had hoped to check in on Erik when I returned, but she seemed determined, ironically, keep me with her.

"So, what's going on in the Opera House now?" She took a bite of a pastry and looked at me as if she were poised for all of the latest gossip.

"Nothing new. It's the same as when you left, Madame."

She laughed. "Oh, I hardly doubt that. I'm sure things are much different now than when I was there. I'm sure rehearsals run a lot more smoothly."

"Considering our Managers have some taste, than people who were in the junk business, yes I can see your point."

"You said '_our_ Managers.' You work at the Populaire?"

"I'm not a charity case." Well, that was a lie, but only a white one. "I helped accompany during rehearsals and I also accompany Madame Carrolton in her private lessons. Of course, my time is considerably freer now that Madame Carrolton's time will be all consumed by the Opera and the troupe will rehearse with the orchestra."

"Oh, well then you must spend your time with me! I long for a good friend now that I'm back in Paris."

"What of Meg?" I asked, coldly.

"What of her?"

"You were her best friend."

She signed and fiddled with the hem of the tablecloth. "Meg and I were friends a long time ago. Things have changed."

"No, it's more like _you_ have changed, Vicomtess. Meg is still very much the same."

"Still living in the world of the Opera House, she will always be the same. I am now a figure in society. I have an image to maintain!"

"Then I can't imagine why you would wish to spend your time with me, since I too am a working girl at the Opera House. Meg has a better chance than I of ever making something of herself. She has become the Prima Ballerina at the Populaire, and has dreams…"

"Yes, she has _dreams_. We all have them." She looked away towards the garden, a wistful expression on her face. "Eventually, we have to put them aside when reality comes knocking. Dreams….can also be dangerous. They can make us prey to unspeakable evil." She clenched her fists and looked around her as if she was nervous of someone overhearing her. "One…can never be too careful."

We were touching on Erik now, but before we could progress farther on that or any other topic, we both heard a door slam very hard. Someone's heavy footstalls were fast approaching and I wanted in some type of anticipation who was coming towards us. I was surprised to see who could only be the Vicomte de Chagny walk towards us, his eyes filled with the blackest anger.

"Christine…who is this?"

"Darling, this is Anastasia Hillcrest."

I started. I hadn't told her my name was Anastasia…just Anne. How did she know? My confusion must have shown on my face.

"You are Elizabeth Hillcrest's older sister aren't you?" Christine looked at me puzzled, yet hopeful.

I tried not to groan and roll my eyes. "Yes, Elizabeth is my younger sister."

"Splendid!" She clapped her hands as if she had just discovered a secret treasure. She turned to her husband and smiled. "There…have I not done a good thing? Elizabeth told us that Anastasia was in Paris and I happened to meet her while I was at the Luxembourg Gardens today! I thought I would invite…"

"A complete stranger into our house," the Vicomte finished for her, his tone harsh and like ice.

The air grew tense and I started to rise. "Well, I really should be going. My family will be expecting me."

"Elizabeth's at the Opera House as well?" Christine asked, standing up with me.

"No. I broke with Elizabeth and my Grandmother. I live at the Populaire with my Aunt and her daughter."

She took a sharp gasp as if she had finally just put the pieces together. "You're Madame Giry's…?"

"Niece, yes. Meg is my cousin." I gave a polite curtsy to the Vicomte. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance even though we were not introduced. I'm glad to know that the same pleasantries that are denied in England are the same in Paris." I made my way away from the two of them and back towards the main entrance. I had no desire to spend any more time with the Vicomtess and definitely did not want to be introduced to the Vicomte. She appeared to be insipid and stupid. He…well, the alcohol on his breath spoke volumes.

"Anastasia, wait!"

I had my hand on the doorknob. I had been so close. "Madame, I really must thank you for the enlightening afternoon, but I really must return to my home."

"Yes, I know, but I've rung for the carriage to return you to the Opera House. It's such a long walk and I don't want you to be attacked by ruffians or anything." She smiled politely and I sighed.

"Very well," I replied, growing weary by this entire experience. She walked me out of the house and towards the awaiting carriage. The door was opened, but before I could step in, she stopped me by placing her hand on my arm. I looked back at her.

"Is everything alright at the Populaire? Are there anymore…accidents?"

"You're referring to the Phantom," I whispered.

"Is he…still there?"

"Why do you want to know? You shouldn't be looking back at your past. It holds _unspeakable evil_ for you, and that won't be good for you, or your family." I pointed up to the window where I could clearly see a child. She looked up at the window and then back at me, clearly ashamed of herself. "I'm offended that you didn't think to introduce me to your husband, or to your children. Where I come from, a hostess behaves better if trying to make a new friend. Brush up on your social etiquette and then try again."

I got into the carriage and shut the door behind me. The wheels spun, and I didn't even bother to look back as I made my way home.

* * *

"Oh, Anne, thank goodness you're back!" Meg exclaimed when I got into our room. "Today has been such a wreck of a day and I'm glad that I can now spend some time with you."

I took off my hat and sat it on my bed. "Why? What's happened?"

"Rehearsals were awful today as the Managers came in halfway through our staging of the first act. They were in an awful tizzy waving around letters that everyone knows bears the Phantom's writings, whatever they say about a private arts critic."

I sat down on my bed and unlaced my boots, my feet tired and aching from all of the walking. I could already feel a slight pounding at my head and my eyes felt heavy. It was time for a nap. But, Meg needed to talk.

"What happened?"

"Our 'critic' apparently finds fault with the scenery, as well as with the music, and how the staging is already going. 'No one understands how this is all supposed to feel to your audience!' They were crying out. As if emotion has anything to do with how much money you take in."

"But Meg, it does! People will spread the word to their friends and will come back to see more performances if they were not only astounded by what talent lies at the Populaire but also by what they feel. If I can be moved to tears by a love gone wrong, or angry at a jealous lover, or want to shout for joy at a happy ending, or laugh at a funny scene…I will come back, again and again and again so that I can experience those same sensations."

Meg huffed and sat on her bed. She crossed her legs and tossed her blonde hair around her shoulders. "Anne…how did you get to be so knowledgeable in all of this?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, every time I try to say something, you come right back with a retort that changes my mind completely."

I laughed. "Oh, Meg. I've lived in the world and experienced a world beyond the confines of the Opera House."

"It's not as if I've never wanted to live outside the Populaire, Anne." Meg's reply was harsh and I was taken aback.

"Meg…I…"

"Just forget about it. I'm going to bed."

"No…let's talk about this." I got up from my bed and sat down next to her. She had never really talked about what she wanted for herself so this was an new turn of character for her. "I want to hear about your dreams and what you want to be."

Meg drew her legs up under chin and looked at the opposite wall. "I want the Managers to bring back the Paris Ballet. I want to be more than just the Prima Ballerina that performs only in Operas. The Ballet hasn't been around in five years and I want to play roles I've only dreamed about: Coppelia, Giselle, all of which require hard work and dedication. Those are things that I have and I'm not given the chance to show what I'm capable of. I can be so much more than another face in an Opera. I'm the Prima Ballerina and should be given as much of a chance to shine as the Prima Donna!"

I knew that Meg was passionate about her dancing, but I never knew it could reach to such depths.

"I sometimes feel like I'm drowning here…being suffocated by my mother and by the Managers and by the Opera Ghost!" She punched her pillow with such a force surprising to her small stature. "Christine left me behind when she married Raoul. At first, everyone thought he was charming but what kind of person could he be to not allow her associate or keep up with people who practically raised her and supported her even when she sounded like a mad woman?!"

Tears formed in the girl's eyes and started to run down her cheeks. I, instinctively, wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close. Meg cried into my dress, her body shaking with her sobs.

"Why would she leave me?"

"Ah…so this is what has you so worked up."

"She was my best friend. I loved her like a sister and would have done anything for her and then she becomes a Vicomtess and she treats me as if I were dirt under her feet. I hate her! I never want to see her again!"

"Meg you shouldn't say such things. You can't know what's going on in her life. If her time here was as tragic as you once said, then perhaps it's the association that keeps her away."

"So, I'm tainted by association."

I tried to fumble about for a response. I knew what Christine thought of Meg by her own words earlier today, but I didn't want to unload it on Meg right now. She had to learn for herself and it would not be a good idea for her to hear about it by second sight.

"Maybe you should try and see her outside the Opera House. She won't come here…then you should go see her. She's back in Paris, you know."

"How do you know that?"

I bit my lip. "I saw it in the newspaper as I was walking around the city."

She thought over my words. "I suppose I could give her another chance."

"If she's truly changed, then you would have every right to cut off the friendship entirely."

Meg nodded and soon we both went to bed, but our chance to go see her never came. We both woke up the next morning to hear that the Vicomte and Vicomtesse were coming to pay their respects to those of us at the Opera House, since it had been Christine's home.

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**AN: Meg apparently needed someone to talk to and she and Christine will have an interesting stand off a little later on. Don't expect Anne to go all crazy jealous right now. Confused? Definitely. Jealous? Anne says "Say what?" :-)**


	26. The Newest Patron

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne just currently resides in my head until she's done telling her story. She's getting alone quite well with all of the other voices that reside up there. :)**

**AN: Let me just say that I am totally E/C and that I don't personally think Christine is this way. However, there is a reason she's become this way. Explanations will soon follow!**

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Chapter 26

"She's back, Erik. Christine and her husband have returned."

At first Erik wondered who Madame Giry was talking about. It had been some time since he had heard her name or had even gave any serious thought about her. His mind had been a bit more agreeably engaged with the events of the present rather than the events of the past. But slowly, the pieces fell into place and he understood. He sat down in a chair, grateful that Madame Giry had come to his home to give him the news, rather than any other place.

"When did she get back?"

"Within the past few days, according to Anne."

"What would Anne know about this?"

Madame Giry bit her lip. "Apparently, while she was walking at the Luxembourg, Christine found her and invited her over for tea."

"Tea…"

"It seems that Christine met Anne's younger sister. She assumed the connection would be something Anne would have no objection to."

"And how did that go?"

Madame Giry chuckled. "Not well. Anne says that Christine has no sense of moral compass, any idea of what is to be expected of her despite being married and in the spotlight of society for five years, and has absolutely no idea of what she is doing. But, if you want to know her reasons, you should go talk to her."

"She has no idea of what she's talking about!"

"Erik, you can't mean that you still care for Christine, after all this time? She's married and has children. There's no room in her heart for you."

"That's not the point. I will not have Anne's opinion of Christine be so low because of one meeting!"

"_You_ will not have?"

Erik looked behind Madame Giry to see the very woman they were talking about. "Anne…"

"Don't you 'Anne' me, Erik. I will tell you exactly what happened while I was with Christine. I was resting peacefully at the gardens minding my own business, when she practically waltzed up to me, introduced herself, then whisked me away to her house where I was almost forced to sit down to tea with her. Her husband soon came in, well, I should say stumbled in since you could easily smell the liquor on his breath. Christine mentioned the Opera House and asked what was going on as if she expected me to tell her the latest scandal. She dismissed Meg's dreams as if they were of no importance to her. She dismissed Meg as if she were the greatest refuse that was ever placed upon the earth. Meg! Her best friend while she was here at the Populaire! She even mentioned you…Erik." Erik noticed the way Anne's voice got really low when she was angry. He watched as she clenched her fists so tight that her knuckles turned white. Her words were cutting his soul deep. He could never imagine that his beautiful, innocent Christine could become such a person. "She spoke of you as 'unspeakable evil.'"

"Stop it! You lie!" He put his hands over his ears in an attempt to block out her crippling words.

"It's the truth! The person you thought Christine was no longer exists. And if you don't believe me, then you can come see for yourself!" Anne turned her attention to her Aunt. "She's going to be here in one hour."

"Just her?" She asked.

"No. She's bringing her fop of a husband and her two daughters."

Erik tuned out the rest of their conversation and staggered out of the study and towards his music room. He needed time to think. Not only was his precious Angel returning, but she seemed as if she was no more an Angel if Anne's words to be believed. Such vile and unbecoming words she spoke of his precious Christine. Antoinette had tried to get him to move on but that was impossible. Christine's name was forever branded upon his heart and there was nothing anyone could do to change it. He had to see her, if only once more.

"Erik…"

Her voice was soft and came from behind him. He did not want to see her…not after what she said.

"Erik, please try to understand." He felt her hands on his shoulders and he could feel their warmth through the material of his shirt. It seemed as if the warmth went straight to his heart calming his anger that he had towards her just moments earlier. "I lashed out unnecessarily, and I'm sorry." She knelt down and turned his face to her. The color in her eyes was nearly gone, and she appeared almost ethereal as her black hair was left unbound and fell to her waist.

"You said…"

"I know what I said, but my opinion of her is not favorable at the moment. You were not with Meg last night as she cried her tears of betrayal as Christine left without so much as a second glance. For five years Christine has not bothered so much as a 'how are you' to the people who cared for her more than anything…and I don't just mean Meg and Aunt Giry. I mean you as well."

Erik was silent.

"Misguided and selfish you may have been in kidnapping her, no, you will let me finish." She took his hands in hers and held them close to her. "I believe that you loved her far better than anyone else in the world and would have done anything for her. If she was too blind and insipid to see such a thing, then that is her own fault. Any woman would be a fool to reject such devotion."

Erik was still speechless and he felt his world tilt as she pressed her soft lips to his knuckles.

"You have known such pain, Erik, and I'm sorry you've had to bear it alone. But you can't claim her anymore. She's gone. She's not coming back for you."

He whisked his hands out of hers, not in anger but because of something entirely different. Anne had to leave…now! He needed to think. To sort out what was going in his mind and to put an actual word to this emotion stirring in his heart.

"I think it's time for you to go now. You will surely be expected when the guests arrive."

"But, I…"

"Go!" He shouted at her. He didn't mean to sound angry but it was clear she interpreted it that way.

"Fine," she bit back and stormed out of the room.

When he was sure that she had left his house, he went to his study where he could watch her leave. He slightly pulled back the curtains and watched as her dark tresses disappeared behind a wall and out of sight. Whatever it was that he felt for her, and it was a confusing emotion to be sure, it was definitely not friendship.

* * *

I quickly braided my hair over my right shoulder and fastened it with a tie and changed out of my clothes into something a little more appropriate to receive guests. Still wishing to be in mourning for Mama, I pulled out a dark blue dress trimmed with black lace. It was one of my old dresses that had seen better days, but it was suitable. I tried to do everything to keep my mind off the tormented man living in the darkest caverns of the Populaire. I had tried to apologize to him for my unkind words, regardless of the fact that they were true. I had realized that Christine's arrival would take an emotional toll on him so I tried to comfort him in his pain and what did I get for it.

"It's absolutely unacceptable," I muttered, lacing up my boots. "Comfort should not be met with such an attitude. I was only trying to help."

I clasped my locket around my neck leaving it visible instead of hiding it. I made a mental note to look over everything in the box when I returned. Meg was going to be busy with rehearsals and I was going to have some time to myself. I had only glimpsed at the treasures inside, and I had put the box out of my mind, Mama's death being such a pain that I didn't want to think about her or anything associated with her.

I left my room and made my way to the auditorium where it would be such an obvious spot for the Vicomte and Vicomtess to make their grand entrance as was the common thing for all who enjoyed making spectacles of themselves. I took a seat in the fourth row in front of the stage and watched the ballet rehearsed their scene in the fourth act. The scenery was mostly finished and the ballet took place in a grand palace. As always, I loved watching the ballerinas flutter across the stage, their soft shoes making hardly any sound over the orchestra.

Suddenly, the music stopped and there were a flurry of whispers and exclamations coming from the stage. I sat up in my chair and sure enough the de Chagny family was making a grand entrance onto the stage being led by the Managers.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let's all welcome back to the Populaire a familiar face to us all! The Vicomte and Vicomtess de Chagny along with their two daughters: Adele and Eloise."

Although everyone gave a polite applause, the Managers seemed to forget that after the fire, everyone that was currently employed at the Populaire were completely new. Very few people would remember Christine Daaé and the events that happened during her short time as Prima Donna. It was almost laughable as she made her way around and said hello to people who had no idea who she was. Meg, of course, was a different story. She stepped out of the formation and tiptoed towards Christine, her face a light with excitement at seeing her friend in so long.

"Christine…"

The brunette turned and smiled back. "Meg…it's so good to see you again." She took Meg's outstretched hands in hers and grasped them tightly. "My, you look positively beautiful. How kind the years have been to you! And to your mother as well!"

Either Christine had made a huge change in character in twenty four hours, or she was putting on a really good show. I decided on the latter. As I watched introductions being made, I caught a glimpse of a white glove from Box 5. My eyes quickly looked towards the box and could clearly see him in the darkness. He could see the stage, but none would see him. Only I could see him in the dimly lit auditorium. He watched the scene below with obvious interest and seemed transfixed on Christine as she glided about the stage with grace.

"The de Chagny's are accompanying our newest patron and his fiancé to our Populaire." Monsieur Laurent gestured to the backstage area where we could see two shadows but yet to make out two people.

"I met the fiancé just recently and when I heard that she and her soon-to-be-husband wished to become patrons, I insisted on bringing them myself." Christine smiled as if this entire thing were her idea and that praise should go where praise should go.

I was not prepared for who I saw, however. I had no imagination or inkling of who could have added themselves to the list of patrons, but this was something that never would have crossed my mind. The man I had never seen before, but he was finely dressed in a black suit and his blonde hair was pulled back. The woman however, was the cause of my anxiety. She was dressed in an emerald green dress that brought out her blonde hair that was piled atop her head.

Christine cleared her throat and put her hand atop the young woman's and I felt my stomach turn over. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I please introduce the Earl of Manchester and his fiancé, Elizabeth Hillcrest."

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**AN: SHE'S BACK! Leave a review if you've got a thing or two to say about Elizabeth! :-)**


	27. The Soul's Way of Healing

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne just currently resides in my head until she's done telling her story. She's getting alone quite well with all of the other voices that reside up there. :)**

**AN: Two chapters in one night! Happy Thanksgiving, for those of you who celebrate it!**

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Chapter 27

I felt Erik's eyes on me the moment Elizabeth's name was said. In fact, everyone turned towards me and I shot up from my seat. Elizabeth…here? Why? It made no sense. She would have nothing to do with the arts and there was no way her fiancé did, for he looked about as lost amidst the throngs of lower class people as a hunting dog in a sheep field. I made my way into the aisle and towards the stage.

"Oh, Annie!" Elizabeth rushed to meet me but stopped at the stage's edge. I walked up the stage right side, and in my peripheral I could almost see the flecks of fire in Erik's eyes.

"Hello, Elizabeth. This is a quite a surprise."

She came forward and embraced me with all the sisterly warmth one who would expect in a normal family. I, however, was not fooled.

"Well, my _darling_ James just loves the arts, and England has become so passé for it, so we thought what better place than Paris!" She looped her arm through his and smiled up at him. What an almost convincing couple they made.

Christine stepped forward and wrapped her arm around my shoulders as if we were the best of friends. "And I offered to bring them to the Opera House to settle all the financial arrangements and thought that us girls could spend a little time together."

"And your children?" I asked, pointing out the twin girls who had their mother's brown hair, and green eyes.

"They'll go back with Raoul of course. Their nanny is always taking such good care of them. I must confess I find myself quite jealous sometimes at how attached they've become to her."

I rubbed my temples trying to hold back the comments I could have said to her. But now was not the time for harsh words. Regardless of whether or not they recognized it, they were taking away from a rehearsal so I had to get them out.

"Why don't we go for a light lunch and let the dancers get back to work. They have a lot of practicing to do." I looked back at Aunt Giry who nodded her approval and the group quickly dispersed. Christine said goodbye to her husband and patted her children on the head. Raoul seemed less than pleased about being saddled with the children. Anne said goodbye to her precious Earl as he made his way off with the Managers.

I, however, steered clear of Meg Giry who was trying to figure out how I knew Christine since I said nothing about it last night as she gushed out her dreams and tears to me. I felt guilty about not saying anything, but it wasn't my place to say anything bad about her friend. She had to learn from her own decisions. I couldn't interfere with that. She had to be free to make her own judgments and choices.

I, once again, found myself in the de Chagny carriage, this time with both the Vicomtess and Elizabeth. The two prattled on as if they had been friends all her life. I found it highly annoying and wished to be back at the Populaire. There is so much talk any sane person could take when it came to ribbons and lace. I watched the scenery pass by and found that we were going to a formal restaurant that I had come to on a few occasion with my Aunt and Meg. The hostess however, recognized me instantly.

"Ah, Mademoiselle Hillcrest, such a pleasure to see you again." The hostess smiled at me and politely took my hand. "And where is the young Giry today?"

I smiled back at him, always pleased by his friendly manner. "At rehearsal I'm afraid. I have guests with me today Francoise: my sister Elizabeth, and the Vicomtesse de Chagny.

"Ah, Madame and Mademoiselle, such an honor to welcome new faces to our restaurant. Mlle Hillcrest would you care for your usual seat?"

"I think something a little more secluded, if you would be so kind."

"Of course. If you would please follow me."

We were all situated in our seats, drinks were ordered and menus were being perused when Christine broke the silence.

"I had no idea you were such a regular here, Anne."

"I did not give you permission to use my Christian name, Madame. I come here sometimes with my Aunt and Meg. Francoise is a pleasant gentleman who is very kind and attentive to when we come in."

Elizabeth scoffed and finally decided on her lunch. Christine followed suit and I studied my menu before realizing that all the letters were swimming before my eyes. I couldn't really focus on anything and that was irritating. When the waiter came back, I ordered the first thing I could make out which was thankfully a salad.

"Isn't this nice? Spending time with just us girls away from the men? Not that you, Anne, would have any experience with that."

I glared at her wanting to pour my lemonade on her expensive dress. I, however, simply smiled and took a sip before replying, "Elizabeth, I must say that I am quite surprised to hear that your fiancé wishes to be a patron of the Populaire. Even more so that you would be so supportive of it."

"Why, dear Annie! Why would it surprise you?"

"Because you care just as much about the arts as I do about society, which is nothing."

Elizabeth smiled at Christine in an apparent vain attempt to make her believe that I was lying. "Well, that's just silly. I've always loved music."

"Since when? You never took any interest in any sort of private lessons when the opportunity arose. You chose to apply yourself in which silverware to use at a formal dinner service and how to properly hold a fan."

"Well, I guess it's perhaps _you_ took all of the spotlight in that area. I was never given a chance." She walked to her fiancé and smiled up at him. "Now, I'm getting that chance. Aren't you happy for me, Annie?"

Something was not right here. There was more to this than just Elizabeth reclaiming some of the spotlight she lost when we were children. There was a plot behind that fake smile, and I didn't like it. She was up to something, and I felt that Grandmama was behind it.

"Annie? Aren't you going to answer me? I mean, my husband-to-be is going to be supplying the funds to keep this theatre alive, after all. It's his money that will keep you and your friends alive."

So, that was it. Bribery. She knew how I felt about the Populaire, anyone could plainly see that I was attached to it. She was going to twist my arm to do her…and Grandmama's bidding. But my only thought was why? Grandmama had no claim on me and I had no property of my own…nothing to make me of any value. I was not going to play this game.

"First off, Elizabeth, my name is Anastasia, not Annie. Anne is sufficient, but I have not been known as Annie since Papa died. So, stop it. Second, I do not respond to threats, especially threats issued by a society brat who sees nothing more than a pretty face and expects there to be a decent person inside. Thirdly, to waltz in to the Populaire, in the middle of a rehearsal, shows that you have no desire to further the excellence of this Opera House, but to use it as your own conversation piece making you seem as a good person when all you are really doing is living a great big lie. Now, will you all kindly, leave! We are in the middle of a rehearsal."

"We, Annie?" Elizabeth batted her eyelashes at me. "You're just a simple pianist who, at the end of a few weeks, has out lived her purpose and is replaced. Sounds like a broken record, don't you think?"

She was close…so close to bringing up everything that would ruin me forever. I wanted to keep her quiet. I wanted to strike her, throttle her, and shake her until her teeth rattled! Who was she to come in here and order me about like I was some servant beneath her feet? I had my own life and I was under no obligation to give any of that life back to her. She didn't have any more hold of me than a stranger in the street.

Christine, it was obvious, was completely uneasy at the way our conversation had taken. I felt sorry for her. Sorry that she couldn't have been a better judge of character. Sorry that she had to be exposed to our childlike fight. I decided that, since I was master of my own life now, I didn't not have to stay any more than she did. I rose from the chair and looked at Christine.

"I'm sorry Madame that you had to be spectator to all of this. Elizabeth never really did have much tact. But perhaps we could spend some time together later." Yes, I was currently loathed to spend time with her, but I couldn't her think I always took complete leave of my senses.

"Yes…I…would like that."

I looked at my sister. "Goodbye, Elizabeth. It would be in your best interests to not speak with me ever again."

She smiled maliciously. "Threats, Annie?"

I thought back to Erik's kind words to me, words that rang in my heart. "_I'll protect you_."

"No, it's not a threat. It's a promise."

I placed my napkin on the table and left the restaurant. Fortunately, the walk was not long and I needed time to clear my head. I was angry, furious, and I wanted to cry at the position I had just been placed in. I walked back the Populaire and, hearing the loud singing coming from the auditorium, realized ed that everyone was still in rehearsal. That was fine as I wanted to be away from everyone and everything. No, that wasn't true. There was one person I wanted to see and as soon as I turned down a hallway, I felt his hand take mine and he guided me through the hallways until we reached the room I shared with Meg. He opened the door and I walked through. He stepped in behind me and shut the door. I didn't say anything but I could feel my hands shaking.

I felt his hands on my shoulders and that was when the dam broke. The tears pooled in my eyes and I buried my face in my hands. It wasn't long until I was fully wrapped in Erik's arms, my head on his chest, and my tears flowing unchecked down my cheeks. I don't know how long we stood like that. What I did know was that his arms felt comforting and the slow thump of his heart was a soothing balm to my soul. Soon, my tears stopped but the anger and pain was still there.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, when I felt I had some control of myself.

"There's nothing to be sorry for."

"I'm just so angry at them…"

"You cry when you're angry?" His voice sounded incredulous and I choked out a laugh.

"It's more like tears of frustration." I wiped at my eyes, grateful when he passed me a handkerchief. "Christine and Elizabeth's sudden arrival just aggravate me….Elizabeth especially."

"Wasn't she supposed to be getting married?"

"Another two weeks, I think. Or one…I forget. I'm not responsible for her anymore. And her husband is our newest patron…"

"I don't think you'll have to worry about him, if that's got you like this." He placed his hands under my chin and lifted my face to his. "You really shouldn't cry so much over nothing. Tears don't do anything."

I smiled. "My mother once said that tears are the soul's way of cleaning itself. I believe she's right because I always feel better after a good cry."

He laughed and brushed my hair over my shoulder. "You are a strange girl, Anne."

"Thank you, Erik. I'll take that as a compliment." Somehow, being with Erik made me feel as if the problems of the world didn't matter. He said that he would protect me and I felt like his very presence alone could protect me from any and all evil.

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**AN: I am a huge believer in fluff! Love it! Gonna be getting really good, really soon! Anne's gonna have a major break, but will Erik be there to save her?**


	28. Even Her Shadow Has Grace

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne just currently resides in my head until she's done telling her story. She's getting alone quite well with all of the other voices that reside up there. :)**

**AN: And moving their relationship along...**

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Chapter 28

Elizabeth, thankfully, had not managed to make any sort of contact with me after the incident at the restaurant. Meg, however, cornered me the second she had to herself. She was angry and hurt that I seen Christine, and had not said anything. I apologized profusely for not telling her, but I refused to say anything about what I thought of the Vicomtesse. I knew I was going to have to change my opinion of her anyway since it wasn't her fault she was the way she was. A second chance is always hard to come by and I felt guilty jumping to any conclusions.

"You're distracted today." Erik's voice whispered in my ear and my hands jumped off the keys. I had missed another wrong note and it was unusual since this was a piece I could play in my sleep.

"I'm sorry. I was just thinking."

"About what?"

I smiled and looked at the sheet music. "Obviously not this piece." I stood up from the bench and took a turn around the music room and sighed.

"Anne? What is it?"

"I've been thinking about Christine, honestly, and Elizabeth as well. I'm worried Elizabeth and her fiancé will do something drastic to the Populaire since I won't cooperate with her."

"You'll find that these people can handle themselves quite well. And that ridiculous Earl is not the only Patron we have. The managers are also quite capable. I made sure of that."

I sat down on the bench and looked at him. "What do you mean?"

He smiled and I saw an eyebrow raise. "They are people who know music very well and know how it should be done. They think my notes to be left by some critic who walks about rehearsals even though everyone knows that rehearsals are closed to the public. But, they want the good reviews, and the money. So, they listen."

"They've never asked to meet you?"

"No, they haven't, nor do they wish to. As long as the money keeps coming in, there's nothing for them to worry about."

"It's quite an ingenious plan. Considering the last two managers, it's quite an improvement."

"Those two were ridiculous men who only wanted to make money, and that was all. There's not much that can be expected from people in the junk business."

I chuckled. "No, I suppose not."

There was a moment of silence before he pointed to the piano. "Shall we continue? I've not heard your waltz yet."

I grimaced. One thing I did not want today was a fight. "Can we skip it today? You know we always disagree on how it should be played."

"You still think that you're carrying two dancers."

"That's what a waltz is."

He sighed and walked towards me. "May I show you something?" He extended his hand to me which I hesitantly took. He helped me to my feet and guided me to the middle of the room where there was an open space.

"What are you going to show me?" I laughed, suddenly nervous.

He took my left hand in his right and with his left hand he placed my right hand on his left shoulder. "You do know how to dance, don't you?"

I looked up at him a retort ready on my lips but I saw his brown eyes alight with laughter. "Yes, Erik." I smiled. "I know how to dance."

"Good. Then this shouldn't be too difficult for you. Now, one, two, three." We did a simple turn around the room, keeping it perfectly in tempo. "Now, if we were in a room filled with a hundred other dancers, than yes. Our dancing would be perfectly in time and not an extra second would be spent extending a beat."

"Exactly. A perfect waltz."

He smiled. "But look around, Anne. Are we in a room filled with a hundred other dancers?"

I didn't have to look around to know that answer. "No," I replied.

"No, we are not. So, we are giving perfect liberty to extend every beat if we want. Every moment can be dragged to it's limit until _we, _the dancers, decide when we want to move on to the next one."

I blinked. "Oh…I hadn't thought of it that way."

"Well, let's try it to make sure you know what I'm talking about."

No words were spoken for the next few minutes as we danced around the room with only the imaginary music in our minds playing. But, standing so close to Erik, I felt as if I had gone into a sensory overload. I could feel his hand on the small of my back and I could smell his very subtle cologne. The only sound was the rustle of my dress, but I could hear his breathing and, when I dared, I looked into his eyes and I felt as if the world disappeared and it was just us two in all of existence. Nothing else mattered. Elizabeth, Christine…everything else vanished.

* * *

It was a strange, yet pleasing, feeling to be dancing around with Anne. It was strange scenario he found himself in and he always managed to find himself in these awkward situations with her. She always did something or said something that made him feel more human than anything else. With her, he wasn't some disfigured monster who had committed horrendous crimes and hid from the world. She always seemed as if coming here was the most natural thing for her. She came because she wanted to…not because he forced her. But he knew this wouldn't last forever. Soon, she would see what was hidden behind his mask. She would tear it away just as another once had and that would be the end of his glimpse of the light. He couldn't hate her for it. Women were naturally curious and it would be to her own demise. Yet, he was going to let this last for as long as he could. This small glance of paradise was going to last as long as possible…just like this dance.

He twirled her around the room, prolonging beats, making every moment last until they transitioned to the next one. It was perfect and yet not so, for this was more than just a waltz to teach her how to play. This was a waltz that was were he would always remember that he had finally let go of Christine. She was forever his past and he could move on from her. Broken and shattered he had been, but in Anne's own way, he had been put back together again. He had learned to feel again…he had learned to…

The reality of the situation struck him like a ton of bricks and he gasped for breath. He lost his footing and nearly toppled to the ground taking Anne with him. He regained his footing at the last moment and when he caught Anne, it was if he had dipped her down backwards and she was waiting to be brought up. The moment was made, however. The spell had been cast. She was so close. Her lips were so close. If he dared…oh, if he dared.

"And so, that's how I'm to play, is it?" She asked, smiling nervously.

The moment was gone. The spell had been broken. With that sentence he was brought back to reality so fast that he almost dropped Anne. He slowly brought her back up and stood her on her own two feet. He dropped his hands and stepped back. How could he ever have thought he would have been granted access to Heaven? To have one…just one kiss?

"Y-yes. That's how it's done. You…have to feel everything in the music. You represent just two dancers and the dance they share."

She nodded, clearly as nervous as he. "Well, I'm…going to fix us something to eat. We…we can resume this when we're done eating."

He nodded back and waited for her to leave. He even waited until he knew she was in the kitchen before shutting the door to the music room. He leaned against it and tore off his mask, the wretched thing becoming irritating and annoying. He was really in a bind now. This time, though he would know how to proceed…because he wouldn't. He wasn't going to go down that path all over again. But…how could he keep going on like this? How could he keep continuing his lessons with her and just simply pretend that he didn't care for her? That he didn't….love her?

* * *

I had gone overboard on lunch and I had only myself to blame. I had tried to block out the dance with Erik, not because I didn't enjoy it. I did. I enjoyed it very much. And that was the problem. My time with Erik was…was… I couldn't quite put a name to it. We were student and teacher yes, but we were friends as well. One would say more than friends, but there wasn't any sort of romantic connotation to it. Erik was my friend, and one would say protector, but that was it. So…why did I enjoy that dance so much? I hadn't danced since my private instructor had drilled me in all the society appropriate dances. That had been a few years ago. Of course, I had always danced when Father was alive.

"You've been in here a while…and I can see away."

Erik's voice came so suddenly that I jumped. "How do you move so silently?!"

He smiled wryly. "Force of habit, I suppose."

"Well, you're just in time. Lunch is all set out, so help yourself."

"I hardly know where to begin." He looked at the cut meats, fruit, vegetables, bread and pastries. I had made a special tea I had learned from Mama and it was sitting in a tea pot on the table."

"Well…I got a little carried away."

"I can see that. Does this happen often?"

"Only when I'm trying to stay occupied." I sat down at the table and he followed suit. I poured tea, knowing how he liked it after careful observation. Then, we were silent as we usually tended to be as we sat down to a meal. We enjoyed the presence of each other's company, until it became awkwardly quiet.

"Anne?"

"Mmm?" I took a small sip of tea and picked up an apple. I peeled it slowly, waiting for Erik to ask his question.

"I would like to know a little more of what your time was like with your parents, if you don't mind."

"What would you like to know?" I was hesitant to answer, and I tried to be really absorbed in peeling the apple.

"What was your mother like? Your father?"

I looked up at him and gave a cheeky smile. "Anything else?"

"Well, you can leave your sister out if you don't mind."

I laughed and then returned my attention to my apple. I tried to put my thoughts in order before saying anything to him about what life was like back then. At times, I even struggled to remember what it all used to be like. But, then again, I didn't really want to divulge to much. It was a part of my life that I kept close to me. Very few people knew about that time, because if they wanted to know about what happened before my father died, they would inevitably know what happened after he died. And that, was not something I was prepared to divulge.

"_Trust is a two way street, Anne._" Mama's words sounded in my ears and I sighed. She was right of course. Before either of us could truly trust each other, we both had to be honest with each other. It seemed that Erik was going to be tight lipped about what his past was like, but maybe I could get to know him better if he knew me better.

After peeling and slicing the apple, I put the knife aside. In truth, there was nothing shameful or embarrassing about when Father was alive. It was all happy and carefree, but it was also painful because what happened afterward was something I did not want to relive.

"I was born on March the 2th, 1850. According to my mother, it rained all day. I've always loved the rain." I looked towards the fire and smiled. The flames were almost hypnotic and my story unfolded.

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**AN: I am also a huge fan of cliff hangers! My bestie hates me for it. :-) Song that I had playing as I was writing their dance was "So She Dances" by Josh Groban. Leave a review if you love cliff hangers!**


	29. Anne's Story

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne just currently resides in my head until she's done telling her story. She's getting alone quite well with all of the other voices that reside up there. :)**

**AN: Anne shares with me just a little of what her life was like while Papa was alive. Enjoy! I know a lot of you want to know more about her! Believe me, it's like pulling teeth trying to get her to talk about it!**

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Chapter 29

"We lived in the country. Papa had a beautiful estate there. We weren't titled or anything, but we lived comfortably. I guess it was because Grandmama was so rich she just gave Papa a lot of money when he married Mama, since she wasn't rich. I guess it was sort of a bribery type of thing. She gave us money so long as we never showed our faces in her society. They never told me that. I just assume so, since I never saw her until we went to live with her a few years ago.

"We had a horses, and Mama had a beautiful flower garden. My bedroom over looked the front of the house and I could see everyone coming and going. We didn't have a lot of visitors, but those we had were always welcomed. Mama had such a good, kind heart and she always went out of her way to support those who were in need. Christmas was her favorite holiday because she always spend her time giving and giving until I was quite sure she would give the house away.

"My favorite room in the house was the library, but it was quickly followed by the music room. From a young age, Papa knew I had talent. I would play and sing all day long. So, a tutor was hired. I began lessons at the age of five and would be at the piano from the moment the sun rose till the sun set. At first, it was just simple songs for me to sing, but we spent a lot of time on technique. My tutor was worried that if I didn't have good technique developed from a young age, then my voice would be damaged when I grew older. He was the same in regards to the piano. It was scales and arpeggios for what seemed like an eternity but I played my first Bach Invention at the age of seven. Papa was very proud.

"Elizabeth was born just after I turned six, and I wanted to spend as much time with her as possible but for some reason I wasn't allowed to. I wanted to take care of her and to help her nurse, but Mama always needed me to go with her to the garden to sing songs with her, or to help pick flowers, or to be taught a parable. I went with her often to the village to take care of the unfortunate and time just slipped by and Elizabeth and I had little to no contact with each other.

"I would often go riding on my pony, if Mama or Papa was close by. I remember even at a young age, I refused to ride side saddle when I grew up. I found there to be something entirely unsafe in riding side saddle and was determined to always ride astride. Even at a young age I was entirely focused on disregarding what society deemed proper. My favorite thing, about living out in the country, was the stars. Every night, before I went to sleep, I would look out my window and would try, unsuccessfully, to count all the stars in the sky. Eventually, I would grow so tired that I would fall asleep at the window sill, the window open to the night air. I received scolding after scolding from my governess. She thought I would always catch my death of cold.

"The time when my Papa was alive, was a happy time. There was always a lot of laughter and a lot of love. I never wanted for anything, but then I had very few wants. As long as I could spend as much time as possible with Mama or at the piano, I was happy. Wo, to the person who tried to take me away from either of those things. My governess had a will of iron, and she made me focus as well as she could, but the second she was done, I was back at Mama's side or pounding away on the ivory keys."

"What happened after your father died?"

Erik's voice jolted me out of my reverie. I had been lost in Papa's smile and Mama's flower garden.

"You have to understand why he died. It was not from any illness that he died. He was healthy and strong…and in serious debt. He hid his gambling from all of us…well, at least from Elizabeth and me. Of course, she was only six when he died, and she barely remembers anything from when he was alive. I was eleven at the time and fully capable of understanding that Papa hung himself from the rafters in our attic. Everything went down hill fast after that. My tutor and governess left, the horses were sold, Mama's garden died, and the servants took everything of value they could find. We only had a few hours to pack what few things we thought precious before the bank came and we were driven from our home, from all I had even known."

I fell silent and looked at my hands, clenched in my lap. The memories, though so long ago, were still as fresh as if they had just happened yesterday. I had never seen my mother cry so much in my life. I think she cried for a good two days together before she tried to put our small family back together again.

"What happened then?"

"Erik, please understand that I can't talk any more about what happened. That's all I can share at this time."

"So…the reason why you won't sing anymore is because of what happened after your father died but before you went to live with your Grandmother?"

"Yes. Living with Grandmama, in the beginning, hadn't been so difficult. I was fifteen when she found us, and we were whisked away to live with her, Mama included. Mama soon became ill, but Elizabeth and I were sent away to school. Elizabeth was young enough to be corrected of whatever faults had occurred during those four years of darkness. I, however, was permanently flawed, with no hope of curing. I got out of finishing school, and was immediately prepped for a debut into London society." I laughed, remembering Grandmama trying to make me into a sensible and proper young lady. "Unfortunately, being allowed to run a little too wild in the country, plus four years of hard times, made that impossible. I had a season, and then two, and it was decided that a third season would be entirely impossible. So, I had a few small engagements, but was allowed to resume my piano studies, singing forever gone from me. I took care of Mama and stepped aside as Elizabeth prepared to be the talk of all London society."

"And…that's it?"

"Erik, those four years are something that I never want to relive and so I've put those ghosts to rest. I don't want to talk about them, not now…not ever."

"But if you talk about them surely you'll be able to sing again."

I was shocked, stunned, and hurt. Was _this_ his game? "Is that why you want to know my past? So that I could sing and be the next Prima Donna?"

"Anne…"

"I won't do it, Erik! I will not be your next obsession!" I stood up and stormed out of the kitchen but he was close behind me.

"Anne, I'm sorry, that came out wrong. I didn't mean it that way." He grabbed my arm and whirled me around. My upper arms became grasped in his tight fists.

"Well, what did you mean by it?"

"Anne, you should see the way your face lights up when you talked about singing. You were born to be a singer and I want that part of you to shine."

"You don't understand! I cannot sing, not now, not ever again." I tried to break free but he was not having any of it.

"Why? Why won't you believe me? Why don't you trust me?"

I stopped moving. "Trust you? I just told you almost my entire life's story, and you think I don't _trust_ you?!"

"But there's a part of your life that I'm missing, and I want to know what it is!"

"Show me your face, then!"

I had him there. His mask was what kept him from opening up to me, and now, after sharing almost all of my life with him, I wondered if it would always be the barrier that separated us. He dropped his hands and I stepped away from him.

"Erik…I'm sorry, but there are just some things I can't share with you. Not yet, anyway." I turned and walked away. He didn't say anything as I picked up my music and left the house. As I made my way back to my room, I took a shaky breath, my mind a complete whirl of emotions. How could I explain to him that I couldn't tell him something he wanted to know...if I myself didn't remember it?

* * *

"Damn it!" Erik shouted in his empty house. Why wouldn't she listen? He was only trying to help her and then she had to bring up his mask. Was that always going to be her way of getting out everything she didn't want to do? It was only going to work for so long. But as he thought over her story, his mind was drawn to other things and Anne took a back seat in his mind. The thing that rang in his ears and that he tried to do his best to hide was Anne's mother and her flower garden. He had wished that she had elaborated on that. Erik remembered, vividly, Maria's love of flowers and how he had strived to make sure she had any sort of flower she wanted. When she had left and had gotten married, he had given her, as a wedding present, a special shoot to plant in her own garden. It was a very special red rose that he had himself had grown a long time ago, in what seemed like another life. He had called it Divinité, and it was as a dark red color that would bloom for weeks at a time before finally withering away to die.

Maria had been a special person in his life, though he had never been romantically attached to her. She had a kindness unlike anything he had ever seen. Antoinette always seemed to live in some sort of fear of him, regardless of the fact that she had rescued him. Maria had touches of the angel in her and had taken care of him and had brought him back out of the darkness. She ran errands for him, and found some ways to unsuspectingly bring him food and supplies so that he could begin to create his masterpiece. He found it strange, and yet ironic that Anne should be who he gave his heart to.

Erik knew that he had to rectify the situation with Anne. He didn't like her being upset with him. He smirked, as he realized that his relationship with Anne was something quite different from whatever relationship he had with Christine. Christine had been afraid of him, and only wished him to be an Angel from Heaven sent by her father and nothing more. Anne, had substance of character and, though she was much like her mother in ways she probably didn't even realize, she was not afraid of him. She was usually angry with him, rather than anything else. He doubted she could ever come to care for him…to love him…but love had only brought him pain. He was determined to keep this feeling for Anne locked away but only declare it once…only once.

He made his way to his music room and pulled out a blank piece of sheet music. He picked up his quill, dipped it in black ink and wrote three words across the top of the page. The title was always the most important thing to a piece. It set the tone…the mood…everything depended on the title.

_Love Never Dies_

* * *

**AN: Trying to get to the good stuff here! It's harder than it looks! We'll know all about the four dark years before the end of November! I promise!**


	30. Reconciling

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne just currently resides in my head until she's done telling her story. She's getting alone quite well with all of the other voices that reside up there. :)**

**AN: Reworking Christine's character in this chapter. Anne's giving the doe-eyed innocent one a second chance. Hope she won't regret it!**

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Chapter 30

I dressed in my best day dress that I had available. It was purple with white lace, and I knew that it was going to be my favorite. It felt snug and the color was absolutely perfect. It set off the dark black of my hair, which I had pulled up on the back of my head. I tucked Mama's locket into my dress to keep it safe. I grabbed my parasol, put on my black gloves, and left the Populaire. I had hired a carriage to take me to see the Vicomtesse and I did not want to be late. It had been almost a week since I had talked to Erik, and told him my story and I had not heard from him. I didn't even bother to go down for a lesson, as I was still angry with him. He had made it seem that he wanted to know my story just so that I would sing for him. Of course, I told him all that I could remember. Those four years of before we went to live with Grandmama were filled with things I learned from Mama and the few times we got to spend any real quiet time together, but I believe that was when the nightmares started. I didn't remember having them before Papa died and, though I wondered why I had the nightmares, I had learned that any time I sang, my body just seemed to shut down. An uncontrollable fear took over my body and paralyzed me and I blacked out. It was something that was involuntary and seemed to happen of its own accord.

As I climbed into the carriage, I wondered what exactly I was going to say to the Vicomtesse especially after that incident with Elizabeth. I felt guilty exposing her to that and I wanted to make amends. So the day after my discussion with Erik, I sent her a note which she had responded to within the hour. We both settled on a day to have tea convenient to us both and to start our introductions over again. I was glad, because as Meg seemed so determined to forgive her, and I had to at least try to do the same. I mean, it was what Mama had taught me, and I knew that it was the right thing to do.

With the week gone by, I had wondered what Erik had gone through. The managers hadn't said anything about receiving any tips from their "critic" so I just assumed that Erik was preoccupied with other matters. What those matters were, I was uncertain of, nor did I really try to think about it. I was still furious with him.

The carriage drive was surprisingly short and I was greeted at the front door of the de Chagny estate by a very pompous looking butler. I smiled and greeted him politely and thanked him for taking my hat, gloves, and parasol, but he seemed as if he had more important things to do than wait on me. It was all rather silly, especially as he tried to look down his nose and introduce me into the room where the Vicomtesse was sitting. I stepped into the room and he closed the door behind me.

Christine was sitting in a chair, a book in her hand and her two daughters playing with their dolls on the rug.

"Hello, Mlle Hillcrest."

I smiled, pleased that she was at least attempting to be proper. "Good afternoon, Madame."

"Would you like to sit down?" She gestured to the seat on the other side of the rug and I accepted.

"Madame, I want to apologize for my behavior the last time we met." I was going to cut right to the chase and avoid any small talk because that was not what I was here for. "You did not know that I had broke with my sister, and I feel awful having you witness that."

"I'm sorry for putting you in that position. I thought I was doing a good thing. I tried so hard to get your sister to like me."

"Why should you want Elizabeth to like you? You are a high standing woman in society and should not have any problem with people liking you."

"I am a high standing woman now, yes. But society never forgets where you came from, and I'm afraid that my behavior is only making it worse. No one ever really explained society to me."

"Hasn't your husband done anything?"

My question went unanswered as tea was served and Adele and Eloise kissed their mother goodbye, curtsied to me, and went off to go spend time with their nurse. Christine poured my cup to my liking and the two of us sat in the drawing room for a few moments in companionable silence.

"Raoul," she said at last. "Reminds me of what I must and must not do. Unfortunately, it comes after the fact."

"Ah, I see." I took a sip of my tea and then put my cup down. "Society is a very tricky maze to maneuver around in. It took me years to learn it all. Granted, I don't practice being proper in society anymore."

"Why ever not?"

"Because I've found something that I want to a part of more than the society."

"You found music."

I nodded and smiled. "Yes. Music has been a part of my life since I was a very little girl. I'm very glad to be able to be a part of it on such a continual basis now."

"Loving music can come with great sacrifices." She looked away and her eyes took on a far away expression.

I smiled. "True, but I don't think of being estranged from Elizabeth and my Grandmother as any great sacrifice."

"To turn your back on someone who practically raised you?"

I was confused. Grandmama certainly did not raise me. "Madame, I don't know under what pretense Elizabeth has put you under, but I can assure you that my grandmother did _not_ under any circumstances raise me. I was fifteen when we went to live her, and from there we were shipped off to the best boarding school to have our education finished."

"Then she didn't rescue you from poverty and pave the way for you to have the best that only money could buy?"

I sighed. "Well, if interpreted the right way, yes. In a way, that is exactly what happened. But, Grandmama never made me feel welcome in any sort of way and I was always expected, especially after a few failed seasons of finding a husband, to bow out of the spotlight and put all my efforts into making sure Elizabeth found a suitable husband."

"Then why were you here and not there when she made her debut?"

"My mother was ill and it was decided that I should come to Paris to stay with Aunt Giry and Meg."

"Elizabeth said your mother is dead. Why are you still here?"

"Might I ask to what all of these questions entail? You are far too curious and wish to know too much, Madame."

She blushed and fidgeted with the hem of the tablecloth. "I'm sorry. It's just, after being a part of this society for five years, I can't imagine wanting to leave it. I think it entirely unfathomable to leave all of this behind to live out a life at the Opera House."

"You haven't seen what I've seen. People who abuse their power to prey on the weak. Unfaithful husbands, and dallying wives. Young heirs squander away their inheritance in races and gambling."

"But you find all of those things at the Opera House, if you look hard enough."

"But I have a constant joy and comfort at the Populaire, and things are different than when you were there. The managers took quite a lot of care in finding almost the perfect people with good recommendations and clean records. Really, the only person to worry about his Michel Faucher. He tends to spend a little too long with the ballet corp and the chorus. Other than that, there is no problem."

"The rumors of the Opera Ghost still live on, though. I could feel it in the air when I visited."

"I daresay you were only feeling the ghosts of your own past. So much happened to you while you were there and I suspect you haven't laid any of it to rest."

She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. "I still have nightmares. I can still hear his voice in my head."

"Whatever happened to him?" I tried to sound curious, even though I already knew the answer.

"He's dead."

I blinked. That was not what Meg had told me.

"Raoul said he went back after I was safely away and he killed him. But…why can I still hear him? Why do the nightmares still plague me? If he were dead…this shouldn't be happening."

I took a breath, hesitant on how I should respond. "Sometimes, when we have a terrible trauma in our life, one of two things happen. We either go into a complete state of shock that we forget it entirely, or we're plagued by it until we can finally put it to rest."

"I wish I could forget it. I can't put him out of my mind, no matter how much Raoul comforts me. No matter how much time I spend with my children…I always fear that he will come for me and carry me away down to his dungeons. Or worse…he'll take my children from me."

"That is utterly ridiculous."

She smiled sadly. "I suppose in a way that it is, but I cannot help it if that is how I feel."

I cleared my throat, determined to put an end to this topic. "Come now, we must stop this melancholy subject. It does not due to dwell in the memories of our past. We must move on with our lives. I can see that you've done very well, by having children and being devoted to them. But you must tell me what your plans are, now that you're back in Paris."

"Plans?"

"Of course! Regardless of what society thinks of you, you are the Vicomtesse de Chagny and it's time for you to play that part."

"A…part?"

I could see this was going to take more work than I thought. "For whatever reasons, which are entirely between you and your husband, you've been away from Paris for five years. Now, you and your family have returned and it's time to let all of Paris know about it. Your husband comes from a very distinguished family, so it is only proper that you give a ball."

"A ball?! I've never…"

"Hosted a ball before?"

"No…I wouldn't know where to begin."

"Well, the first thing you would need to do is run this by your husband. After that, the rest comes fairly easily. The guest list, which will be all of the most important people in society, as well as those who are important in your life. This would be the perfect opportunity to reconcile with Meg, as you have a lot of ground work to make up."

I gave her a very pointed look which she understood immediately.

"I do owe her an apology."

"You owe more to her than just an apology. She was the closest thing you had to family and then you just left her in the gutter. Believe me, when I tell you that I know what that feels like and it is not a pleasant feeling. She's trying to give you a second chance, but you have to be willing to meet her halfway. She's very bitter."

She nodded. "After the guest list, what's next?"

"Well, you'll need to hire an orchestra, decide on what type of food to serve, procure dance cards for all of the ladies, decorations for where you're going to be having the ball, and then it'll be time to decide on what to wear."

She blinked at me, as if trying to put all the pieces together. "You have me a little…out of breathe, Mlle. Hillcrest."

I smiled at her, thinking her innocence to be both annoying and yet…indearing. "Well, let's take it one step at a time. Shall we?"

"Yes. One step at a time."


	31. Introducing The Villain!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne just currently resides in my head until she's done telling her story. She's getting alone quite well with all of the other voices that reside up there. :)**

**AN: I needed something new...so I created a villain ( well someone to help push along the discovery of Anne's dark years ). I hope that you all have had a happy Thanksgiving ( if you celebrated it ) and if you don't...well, I hope you had a happy November 22nd. :-) Thanks to all the reviews and comments. They really mean a lot to me and I can honestly say I'm thankful to any and all who read and who review and who favorite and who follow. I don't think I'd have made it this far without you all!**

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Chapter 31

"Did you have a pleasant visit with Christine?"

Meg's bitter question was raised the minute I opened the door and crossed the threshold. "It wasn't much of a visit. It was more like planning a ball to which you will be invited."

"I don't need a social occasion! I need my best friend back!"

I turned around just in time to see her stomping her foot like a little child who was refused their favorite toy. "Can't you just accept the olive branch for what it is? She feels just as bad as you do about the lapse of correspondence."

"It doesn't help matters any."

"You also have to realize that you two are in completely different social spheres now. There are rules she has to follow and guidelines she must adhere to."

Meg gave a very unladylike snort. "She shouldn't have gotten married then."

"Would you deny anyone the right to marry whom they love, then? It seems rather unfair."

"Well, if I were in her shoes…"

"You don't know her circumstances, so don't even finish that sentence." I took off my day dress and put on an old work dress. It was one I wore often when I went to see Erik and it looked awful covered in soot and dirt that refused to come off. But, it was comfortable and I was going to go pay a visit to the chapel today. I hadn't spent any time in prayer recently, and I could feel the emptiness. A thought briefly crossed my mind that Erik would probably come by and see me, but then I brushed it aside. I was still very cross with him and I didn't want to see him at all.

"Where are you going now?" Meg asked, her voice clearly letting me know how upset she still was.

"I'm going to the chapel to pray. I have a lot on my mind."

"I know where you really go, Anne, when you think no one is looking."

I was brushing out my hair and my hand stopped in mid-stroke. "What do you mean?" I slowly continued to brush out my hair, seeming to be very absorbed in it.

"I mean, that you go down to his lair as often as you possibly can. I know you do. It explains why your clothes are so dirty and why your playing has gotten so much better. He's teaching you, isn't he?"

"Meg…you can't say anything to anyone."

"Eventually everyone will know, but it won't be by my doing. I only know because I see you so often. When you're out in the auditorium, you take great care to remain unseen but your eyes are always drifting to Box 5. Anne, he's dangerous."

"No, he's not. He's just lonely. We just keep each other company."

"Anne, he's killed people!"

"None of us are without sin." I tied back my hair with a ribbon and left the room. I quickly made my way to the chapel, wondering if maybe Meg was going to follow me and continue her tirade. I couldn't risk anyone overhearing us, I didn't want anyone to know the truth about me going to see Erik, whatever feeling I felt towards him at the moment.

The chapel was silent and there were a few candles lit, signs that someone had been here before me. Light dimly shined in through the stained glass window, and fell in a ray to the floor just in front of the prayer candles. I lit Mama's candle and silently said my prayers. But, for some reason, I couldn't keep my mind on the prayers I offered up. Instead, my mind went back to my last meeting with Erik…to when we danced together in the music room. I could still feel the pressure of his hand on my back and the warmth of his hand as he clasped mine. That moment when we stumbled and he caught me was the ever present memory in my mind. He was so close at that moment and the look he had still gave me chills. His face was so close and I thought he was going to kiss me.

My eyes flew open and I put a hand over my lips. Yes. _That_ was the look he gave me…that was what he was going to do, and I instinctively broke the moment because I knew, for some reason, that it couldn't happen. Our relationship had to stay professional, and we were friends…nothing more. We couldn't be anything more, but the question that rang in my head was why?

"Anne."

It was whispered softly and I felt the chills run down my spine. How he said my name, was how Papa used to say Mama's name. It was like an endearment, a word that claimed her as his. I couldn't allow myself to get closes to him. There was something, nipping at the back of my mind that prevented me from getting close. I would not be allowed to get close to him. My mind wouldn't allow it. But…my heart said another thing.

"Anne? What is it?"

I stood up, my arms wrapped around myself. "Nothing. I'm alright. I'm just…I've had a busy day today." Slowly, the defenses went back up. It was almost like I could see the wall build up around my mind. "I went to go see the Vicomtesse de Chagny today."

He stepped into the light and I took a hesitant step back. "Why would you do that? You've already said you don't like her."

I smiled and brushed a wayward curl back behind my ear. "Well, I didn't like you at first, if you remember correctly. Everyone deserves a second chance, and I'm giving Christine hers. I'm helping her organize a ball, to announce her return to Paris after so long a time."

"You know how to organize those things?"

"My grandmother hosted enough in order to get me married that I know how to plan one very well."

"I suppose you'll go, then."

"If Christine wants me there, then yes, I'll go."

"Won't your sister be there?"

"No. Her wedding is very soon so I suspect she's back in England making the final arrangements."

"And…you won't go?"

"I've not been invited. And in any case, I wouldn't go. I'm not her sister anymore. She's made that very clear."

I moved to the window ledge and sat down.

"Anne…about the other day. I'm sorry to make you think that I wanted to hear your story just so that I could get you to sing for me. It wasn't my intention."

I sighed and leaned my head back. "I know. I mean, in my heart I know that you wouldn't do that to me. But my mind is an entirely different matter. I don't like to be used."

"I never…" He walked towards me and knelt down next to me.

I drew my legs up underneath me and rested my chin between my knees. "I know."

"Would you like to come down today? There's something we need to talk about."

"What do we need to talk about?" He took my hands in his and I looked into his eyes. They seemed conflicted with pain and yet I found something in his eyes that I could not quiet put a name to.

"You trusted me, Anne. It's time that I show you the same courtesy."

"You don't have to tell me anything just because I told you part of my story."

"Well, then I'll leave you with just as much a cliffhanger of my own story that you did with yours."

I laughed. I was sure that I was in for some sort of definite surprise. But then, I also worried about what his story would unfold for me. What would he tell me that I hadn't already heard through Meg? Was I sure that I wanted to know any or all of his despair?

"Sure. I'd love to."

* * *

Michel Faucher was not a man to be refused. He got whatever he wanted from whoever he wanted whenever he wanted it. Every girl in the ballet corp and the chorus knew that, and knew it well. There was only one girl who had dared refuse him, and he'd allowed her to get away with it for months, hoping that his small attempts at pursuit would make it worth his while in the end. However, Anastasia Hillcrest was not a woman who was meant to be pursued. He had watched her closely for months now, only making his presence known when it was in his best interest. The only problem was that she was a difficult girl to follow. She moved in and out of corridors better than he did, and he knew the Opera House well. She would go down a hallway and when he reached that hallway's entrance, she would be gone, as if she disappeared into thin air. He wondered if she knew that he was following her, but he kept his footfalls silent and his breathing soft.

Today, he followed her to the chapel. She hadn't frequented there in weeks. Today, was no different than any other time when he followed her, only today her steps were fast and it was almost as if she were running from her room in order to escape something or someone. She moved through the back of the Populaire with ease until she reached the chapel. And then, something strange happened. The door shut softly behind her, and he could not get it to budge open. He smiled, mischievously and leaned back against the wall, more than happy to bide his time.

What he was not prepared for, however, was the voices that came from the other side of the door. He heard two voices in there. Anne's and then another's; a male voice. He hadn't heard it before but he was curious as to how he got in there with her, unless…he had already been there. This changed everything! If she was having secret rendezvous with some man… This could work quite well in his favor. He leaned his ear close to the door to try and overhear what they were saying. Either they were speaking very softly, had moved to the other side of the room, or would too involved in other things to worry about talking. He rubbed his hands together, his plan already forming in his mind.

He waited patiently until the door opened, and then he would catch the two together and then, Anne would do exactly as he said. And he had lots of things planned for her. Blackmail was not always the easiest of ways to get what he wanted, but it worked just as well. And the satisfaction was all his anyway. He never worried about pleasing whoever he was with, as long as he got what he wanted.

He waited…and waited…and waited. His anticipation grew for the moment when he would see the expression of surprise and fear flash across her face when she was discovered in the arms of this mysterious stranger. How he would make her pay. She would pay for having pushed him aside on their first meeting and then every other time the had met afterwards. She was too high and mighty in her ways and she would see reason. He would make her see.

Finally, the door slowly opened and he burst into the chapel. Ready to expose Anne for what she really was when he stopped and took a look around the room. Surprise was his first emotion when he realized that he was the only person in the room. Anne, and whoever she was meeting, were gone! Then, he was confused. There was no way anyone could have left the room without his knowing of it! That door was the only way out. As he searched the room over, anger finally took over. To be thwarted again by the mischievous little harlot was not something he had anticipated. He checked the room over and over and over again. There were no levers to open secret passageways, no loose stones to find passionate love notes.

In a fit of vicious rate he picked up the candelabra and threw it against the opposite wall. As he made his way out of the chapel he muttered curses under his breath. One day soon he would catch her. He would find her and her lover and then everything would go according to plan.

* * *

**AN**: **Not my best work, I grant you. But I'm not much into the villain writing. I'm sure many of you have already been able to piece together the puzzle as to what Anne's life was like. Don't give anything away! :-)**


	32. The Sweetest Words

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne just currently resides in my head until she's done telling her story. She's getting alone quite well with all of the other voices that reside up there. :) Part of Erik's story comes from Kay's novel "Phantom" which I will confess I have yet to read. Facts are taken from online, so...hopefully they match the novel. Rest of Erik's story comes from the movie...well...until we dig a little deeper. ~evil laugh~**

**AN: Getting a little closer!**

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Chapter 32

This had to be more than just insanity. There was no way that he could actually sit Anne down and that she would listen to his story. He hadn't ever really told anyone anything about his past, but then, who would believe it? No one and he was sure that Anne wouldn't either. But she had put faith in him by telling him some of the things he wanted and felt like he needed to know. He had to put forth the faith to trust in her and hope that she wouldn't turn away. But, just like the darkest part of her life that remained hidden from him, the darkest part of himself would forever remain out of her reach.

He touched the white porcelain of his mask as he brought her to his home and showed her inside. She was already making herself comfortable in his home because he had found that she slowly tidied up as she went through the house. His music room was the first to receive her magical touch and he found that he was able to find what he needed a lot easier now. Quills, ink, and blank paper were all more readily accessible.

"Please, take a seat, Anne."

"Erik, this isn't necessary. You don't have…"

"I know," he interrupted. "But I want to. Maybe, it'll make you understand me a bit more."

"I understand you as you are, and that's enough for me. I once thought that I needed to know your past before I understood you but I find now that I don't. What you once were has made you into what are today, but I found after telling my story that going over and over our past doesn't change anything about us."

"You're too kind to me, Anne. Either way, I've held the truth from you for long enough. Please, let me do this."

Anne nodded and he watched her sit on the divan. He paced back and forth, entirely unsure of how to begin.

"Erik…come sit down. Please, you're making me nervous."

He sat next to her and put his head in his hands. "I'm sorry…it's just that I've never done this before."

"No one's ever given you a reason to."

He felt her cool hands grab his own and set them in her laps. He slowly looked at her and found that there was no expression on her face. All he saw was an openness that waited patiently on him. There would be no pressure, no curiosity from her. He smiled. It was no wonder he felt for her the way he did.

"Since you seem to have a hard time trying to find a starting point, so…let's begin with where you were born."

"Boscherville," was his immediate reply. He would never forget place. "It's a small town not far from Rouen."

"And what were your parents like? Your father, your mother."

He smiled wryly. "I was told my father died in a construction accident just a few months before I was born. He was a stonemason. My mother, was a spoiled and vain woman who held the greatest disdain for me from what seemed like the moment I entered the world. In the beginning of my child, I spent it all indoors. I never knew why I had to wear a cloth mask over my face, or why I suffered so much verbal and physical abuse from my Mother until I turned five. I came to the dinner table and refused to wear my mask. I remember how she dragged me to the only mirror in the house, which was located in her room. She forced me to look into the mirror and that was when I saw it. I saw my mother and standing next to her was this grotesque hideous monster. I was so instantly afraid of what I saw that I shattered the mirror, lacerating my hands and wrists in the process."

He stopped as Anne immediately pulled up the cuffs of his sleeves. He heard her soft gasp when he saw the scars. His hands, fortunately, did not receive much damage, but his wrists were another story entirely.

"A family friend took care of me and practically saved my life. Since then, I've had a little bit of an obsession with mirrors and devoted a lot of my time to become a master with illusion since it always appeared to me that mirrors held some sort of magical quality. I can make anything disappear if I really want to. The only thing I cannot make disappear is my face. Since I had so much time on my hands I spent most of my time developing my interest in architecture, however my strongest abilities lied in the subject of music and I was a proficient composer and performer. Mother forbid me to do anything to draw attention to myself as she thought that my gifts were surely not gifts from God.

"When I was nine, my mother received attentions from the town physician. Not long after she began seeing him, a mob of superstitious villagers left our family dog dead and me…seriously injured. The doctor kindly saved my life but he begged my mother to marry him and to send me to an institution. I never have known what she said because I ran away hoping to free her from whatever obligations he had on me and to let her live whatever happy life she could.

"I came upon a gypsy camp in the woods a week or so later. I was discovered and immediately unmasked. My fate was then given over to a man known as Javert who was the showman for a freak show. I spent the next several weeks locked in a cage known only as the 'Living Corpse,' or 'The Devi's Child.' I lived in that cage, being nothing more than an exhibit and spectacle and I was beaten on a regular basis. When I was alone, I kept working on my abilities as an illusionist and a ventriloquist. For the next three years, I traveled around Europe with the Gypsies, mastering their languages and their herbal remedies. I was a very quick learner, and they were too stupid to pay attention.

"Something changed when we came to Paris. Everything went as usual, but then a bunch of ballerinas came in. There was one that stood out and that was your Aunt. I'd seen many things at the people who always came to the cage's bars. Pity was never one of them. In that glance, I knew that there was a life outside my prison, and I felt a sudden violent anger towards my captor. I had hid rope in the straw that laid on the bottom of my cage and killed Javert. Your Aunt, unfortunately saw me, but instead of turning me into the authorities, that were immediately on our heels, she brought me to the Opera House, where I've been ever since. I've known nothing except this place and I find it's as close to living in the world as I dare to do.

"As far as the Vicomtesse is concerned…you already know most of that story. She was a young girl when she arrived here. I overheard her in her prayers one night saying something about an Angel of Music. She had a beautiful voice, even at such a young age, and so I trained her. Taught her how to sing with more than just her voice but with her entire being. Since I am quite an adequate ventriloquist, she never actually saw me. I only saw her, and watched her, and I guess some how along the way I fell in love with her. A dark obsessive love and so, after her debut performance, I brought her, here to my lair, hoping to keep her here with me forever. When she regained consciousness, however, she tore my mask away, thinking me some great handsome man to lie underneath.

"I returned her to the Populaire, but she was never truly mine. She lived in constant fear of me while I made sure she could sing on the stage and have all of Paris at her feet. One winter's night, on top of the Populaire, she and her Vicomte exchanged vows of love which I, inevitably, heard. I had never been filled with a more deadly emotion known as jealousy and I swore to make them pay. I labored for almost three months, finishing an operatic work called _Don Juan Triumphant_. The night of the masque, I appeared giving them the score, demanding they follow my instructions.

"Christine was forced to play the lead and I think for a short period of time she went mad. She fled the Opera House and went to visit her father's grave, where I was determined to make her mine and mine alone. Again, I failed, but because her beloved Vicomte showed up. I left them alone, for the most part, and on the night of the debut performance, I took Piangi's part as Don Juan, and kidnapped Christine again, but not before she ripped away my mask a second time. Only this time, it happened in front of an auditorium full of people. In order to give me a heads start in bringing her back here, I had rigged the chandelier to fall, and fall it did. It set the Populaire on fire, and I dragged her down here. Your Aunt however, led the way for the Vicomte to come and find us. While Meg, seemed to lead the way down here for a vicious mob that was determined to have my head. I nearly killed the Vicomte, making Christine chose between the both of us. She begged for his life, and whatever sort of moment you want to call it, she kissed me.

"Back then, I thought it was because she did love me, in some sort of way. Now, I think it was just a ploy to make me try to let them both live, because that's what I ended up doing. I let both of them leave, but she came back, only for a moment, to return a ring that I had given her. I told her that I loved her, but she turned and left a second time. I could hear the mob coming, and I fled as quickly as I could to a flat that I had prepared for when Christine would be mine. There, I stayed, and I only left once. And that was when she and that Vicomte got married. I stole away to watch the ceremony, and cried more bitter tears.

"My Opera House was ruined and for three years I moved between my flat and my underground prison. The Populaire was soon rebuilt and then two years later, it reopened. There rest, as they say, is history. You know everything else."

There, it was finished. He had born his soul as well as any many could do in any sort of confessional, though he knew that Anne was gifted with some touches of the Angel, she was not any priest. Yet, she held as much power of forgiveness and kindness than any man of cloth. He did not dare look at her, fearing what he might see. Anger? Disgust? He had enough experience with those, but he was sure he wouldn't be able to take it, coming from her. It was only when he heard a short gasp from her that he looked at her. Her shoulders were shaking and her head was bent with her one hand on her face. The other hand still grasped his hand, since she had not let go during his entire narrative.

"Anne?" He put his fingers underneath her chin and raised her face to his. "You're…you're crying?"

"I…I'm sorry. I can't help it." She pulled out a handkerchief from her sleeve and started wiping at her face.

"Tears…for me? You're crying _for_ me?" Would she ever cease to amaze him? No one had ever cried for him…many had cried because of him. Even Christine never cried for him…only for her Vicomte.

She wrapped her arms around him and held on for what seemed like dear life. "You've known such a sorrow that I will never be able to understand, and you've had to endure it all alone. But I promise you…you will not have to endure anything like, all by yourself, ever again. I promise that no matter what happens…I'll protect you…just as you've promised to protect me."

"But…why?"

She smiled and his heart raced…a heart he long since thought head. "Do you really need a reason?"

"No…I guess I don't."

* * *

**AN: Alright! A ball chapter, and then we should be getting to the root of Anne's problems. ~looks into the other room~ "You hear that Anne?! You've got a day maybe two at best before you're coming clean!" ~looks back~ Yeah...Anne's going to be really reluctant to do this...**


	33. Being a Little Progressive

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne just currently resides in my head until she's done telling her story. She's getting alone quite well with all of the other voices that reside up there. :)**

**AN: Anne is stalling... ~grumble grumble mumble mumble~**

* * *

Chapter 33

I had a note waiting for me from Christine by the time I reached my room. I scanned it quickly, somewhat pleased to hear that the Vicomte liked the idea of his wife hosting a ball. After that, I threw myself onto the bed and closed my eyes, my entire body overcome with fatigue. I replayed Erik's story in my mind, over and over until I could remember every single detail. I had watched his face the entire time, and it pained me all the more. Almost all emotion was gone as he told about the time before he was captured by the Gypsies. He was detached from everything, and then ever so slowly, little by little, he became more passionate about his story. And then, when he spoke about Christine, I felt as if my own heart would break as he was denied the one thing he desperately needed and that was to be loved. He was bitter towards the Vicomte as he obviously blamed him for taking his beloved Christine away, but I also felt some sort of anger towards her. It however was quickly calmed as she had made her decision and had to live with it. She still appeared fearful of Erik, I could tell that much from spending time with her. But it was misplaced. If she still feared him, then it was obvious that she hadn't truly known him…or loved him, as Erik so desperately wished she had.

I rolled over to lie on my back and breathed a deep sigh. It was so much to absorb and I couldn't get his words out of my head. The life he had, it was something that I had never dreamed he would had lived. It also made me all he more curious to know what was underneath his mask. I had tried to not push the subject, only when he had backed me into a corner, but seeing all of his face, it was a curiosity that I could not always push aside. But it had to be his doing, and it would probably happen after I told him what had happened during those four years before we lived with Grandmama. It was the source of the nightmares, and it was why I couldn't sing anymore. I knew there was something about those years that was terrible and traumatic for me, but I couldn't remember, and I hated that feeling. I felt as if something was being kept from me, like when my mother kept secrets from me, just because she thought I wasn't strong enough to handle it. I wasn't a child anymore, and I had to recover the missing pieces of the puzzle.

I quickly sat up and threw my legs over the side of the bed. Realization hit me, and I knew what I'd have to do in order to remember. I could go over bits and pieces together as often as I wanted, but it wasn't going to get me anywhere. I had to do the one thing that brought on the chills down my spine, and the fear that would strike me numb.

"I'm going to have to sing again," I whispered to the empty room.

* * *

"Thank you for coming so quickly after you received my note, Mlle Hillcrest."

"I had to come as soon as I heard. It can get quite stuffy in the Opera House, Vicomtesse." Once again, I was sitting in the parlor of the de Chagny estate, having tea with Christine. "But, I think since we've gotten to know each other a little better, I would feel better if you called me Anne."

"Then you must call me Christine. Does this mean we're friends, now?'

I smiled at her naivety. "Yes, I do believe so."

"Well, since you're here now, I suppose we should need to work on this ball. I hardly know where to start."

"Well, is there so some sort of ballroom here?"

"Yes, of course!" Christine jumped up. She took my hand and I followed her out of the parlor to the ballroom that was located at the back of the house, and the doors opened the garden.

"It's lovely!" I exclaimed, despite the fact that all of the furniture was currently covered with white sheets. "And I think this will do quite well for the ball." I walked around the room taking everything in, while at the same time remembering past balls I had gone to. "The orchestra can go here in this corner. See, you can see where the wall goes back as if to perfectly fit a small orchestra. And then, on this side, you can put out refreshments, and then the back gardens will be open as well."

"What shall we do for the decorations?"

"Well, the room is so beautiful as it is, that you wouldn't want to add too much. Nothing says 'bad taste' like an over decorated ball room, but the same can also be said if there are little to know decorations. I think, we can bring in the gardens from outside, and have flowers in here. These pillars will look stunning with ivy wrapped around them, and then you can have potted plants strategically placed about the room, and then add small floral arrangements on whatever tables you have."

"How many balls have you been too, Anne?"

"I had two seasons of my own, and I went to countless balls and parties. And then there was the preliminary planning of Elizabeth's debut ball. I've known my fair share of entertainment."

"And you never found anyone during your seasons?"

I shook my head as I ran my fingers along the curtains that covered the floor to ceiling windows. "I tend to be a little outspoken," I smiled wryly. "And none of the men lived up to my expectations."

"And what kind of expectations do you have?"

"Trying to play match maker, Madame?"

She laughed. "No. That would be Meg. But…in all seriousness…"

"I want someone who understands why I love music so much. Someone kind, and compassionate. I want someone who is not afraid of life. Someone who will hold me when I cry, laugh at my silliness, but someone I can argue with."

"Why would you want to argue with your husband?"

"Yes, it is strange isn't it? I don't want to be married to someone who expects me to bear him a son and then leaves me to be the perfect wife. I want someone who I can disagree with, but who will listen to me when I have something to say, no matter how ridiculous I may sound."

"So…you want to be equal to your husband?"

Christine and I turned at the sound of a man's voice that echoed in the ballroom.

"Raoul!" Christine turned and ran to her husband who kindly put his arms around her as she embraced him. "Darling, I think we've found the perfect person to plan all of our balls and parties for the rest of the time we're in Paris!"

I was a little confused by the complete transformation in Christine. She went from a grown up woman to what appeared to like the young girl she used to be in a matter of seconds. Her husband's arrival seemed to change her entirely. I couldn't help but wonder at the reason behind the alteration.

"She seems quite progressive in her ideas."

"Progressive in my ideas of planning a ball or in what I look for in a husband? Since Christine is already married, you can't assume that my ideologies would have any effect on the latter of the two."

His expression darkened. "No…I suppose not."

I raised an eyebrow and smiled. It was easy to tell he felt threatened by my ideas. A few well placed words to Christine and she wouldn't be the loving, devoted, blind bride he had married. Instead she would be a free-thinking woman capable of making her own decisions about her own wants, and desires, and entirely unafraid of standing up to her husband.

"And anyway, there's nothing bad about wanting to be an equal to my husband. It makes us more of a partnership than master and servant."

"How…progressive," was his cool reply.

"Yes, and probably means that I'll be a spinster for the rest of my days."

"Perhaps you'll meet someone at the ball," Christine encouraged.

"That depends on whether or not I've been invited. And speaking of invites, we need to move on to the guest list, and from there invitations." I looped my arm through Christine's and led her away from her husband back into the parlor. "Now…whom shall we invite?"

"I hardly know, Anne. I'm not at all familiar with the nobility here."

"Well, then we shall leave the society folk to your husband. But, you should also consider adding Meg to the list."

"Do you think she would come?"

"That's her own decision to make. However, I know that she would appreciate the consideration."

"Her mother as well?"

"Since she raised you, it's like inviting your own mother. You should also consider the Managers of the Populaire, as well as the Prima Donna. The recognition would be good for both them and the Opera House but would also show to society that you are not one to forget where you came from."

"Isn't to recognize my humble beginnings and still feel attached to it a bad thing?"

"If some people think that, then they have no right to consider themselves obligated to be acquainted with you. They should like you for who you are, not who you make yourself out to be."

"But didn't you say earlier that I have a part to play?"

"It's a fine line to walk. The part that you wish to play is all up to you. I'm not saying you should walk the streets with bare feet and without wearing your corset. You have to appear the fine lady everyone expects you to be, while at the same time reminding everyone that you came from nothing and have risen to greatness. You have overcome the impossible to marry a Vicomte and everyone should be jealous of your good fortune."

"Oh…"

"I know it's a lot to comprehend and everyone has to decide what their part actually is, but if played to the advantage of the life you want to lead, then you can be truly happy."

"I'm…not sure how to go about it."

"That takes time. And only can decide. Not Meg, not I, and not your husband."

I heard the bell on the clock chime five o'clock and new it was time to go. "We'll resume this later."

"Oh, won't you stay for dinner?"

"I'm not dressed for a dinner engagement and your husband appears to be the person who relies on protocol. However, should you and your husband wish to have a dinner party and you choose to invite me, then I accept. Just send your invitation and I will respond to it at my earliest convenience."

"Wonderful. I'll tell Raoul and we'll invite Meg as well."

"Good. Now, before I come back, you and your husband need to have decided upon a guest list, when you would like this to be, what type of ball you want to have, meaning if needs a theme or anything, as well as who you wish to hire for the orchestra."

"That's quite a to do list!"

"Yes, but it'll make things go a lot faster if the two of you are together on this."

"Alright. Tomorrow?"

"How about the day after tomorrow? I have a prior engagement that requires my Tuesdays and Thursdays."

"Oh? Anything special?"

I smiled. "It wouldn't seem special to you."

I accepted her invitation to walk me to the door, but as I was getting into the carriage, I felt a hand on my arm. I turned to find the hard blue eyes of the Vicomte.

"Monsieur?"

"You may seem to mean well, but I will not have you putting ideas into my wife's head."

"Whatever do you mean?" I asked, nonchalantly.

"The husband is the head of the household. I will not have you interrupting that balance."

"_You_ will not have it? My dear Vicomte, I think you seem to forget that you have no power over me at all. And what goes on in your wife's head, is something you have to both deal with and accept. If you don't like the way she behaves or acts, then, quite frankly, that's your own fault. You married her. You made your bed…so lie in it." I withdrew my arm from his hold, climbed in the carriage and shut the door.

"Au revoir, Vicomte. I so look forward to the dinner invitation your wife promised me." His surprised look as the carriage drove away was a great personal satisfaction.


	34. Preparations

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne just currently resides in my head until she's done telling her story. She's getting alone quite well with all of the other voices that reside up there. :)**

**AN: Anne this is getting ridiculous! COME ON ALREADY! ~grumble grumble mumble mumble~**

* * *

Chapter 34

"Anne! Your invitations to the de Chagny ball are here!" Meg's thrilled voice echoed throughout our bedroom and the smile on her face very nearly rivaled the brightness of the sun. I had never seen her so truly excited about anything in the short time I'd known her.

"Here! Here's yours!" She handed me my envelope even though I already knew what the invitations looked like. I had helped design them.

The parchment was blue-black and had a beautiful silver mask drawn on it. In elegant gold calligraphy were the words:

_Your Presence is requested on October 31st, 1875._

_A Masque Ball will be held in honor of the Vicomte and Vicomtess de Chagny._

_The Ball will commence at 8:00 p.m. with a Masque unveiling at midnight._

_Please bring this invitation with you._

"Oh, Anne! We have to go get dresses! We'll go see _La Marguerite_ tomorrow where we shall be measured for beautiful costume gowns! Oh, what shall I go as?"

"With your blonde hair you could certainly pass for a beautiful Aphrodite."

"And what about you? What will you go as?"

I personally did not have the monetary means for any such extravagance, but I humored her. I said the first thing that came to mind. "A bride."

She laughed. "Why on earth would you go as a bride?"

"I'll never be one in real life, might as well pretend while I still look the part."

"Oh, you'll get married. Perhaps you'll meet someone at the ball."

"That's exactly what Christine said. And believe me, I have no intention of finding anyone at the ball, for I have no intention of going."

"Oh, but you must!"

"Meg, I had my seasons and believe me, I have had my fill of high society. The same lines of conversation in which no one learns anything about person's character except that they care only for fashion and gossip are enough to drive me to distraction." I placed the invitation on my dresser, pleased with how it turned out seeing it in print. "But…seeing as you are so determined to go, I will help prepare you in any way possible. Starting with your costume."

* * *

"What do you mean you're not going?"

I wasn't prepared for Erik's insisting that I go. I had assumed that he would want me to stay with him and we could get some work done on my lessons. We had spent a lot of time talking and less and less time practicing. I focused my attention on scrubbing the dishes in the sink. I needed something to focus on, and I had waited until after lunch to bring up Christine's ball. Generally, he seemed almost…pleased that I was having some sort of relationship with her. I found it odd, since I assumed that he would have wanted me to stay as far away from her as possible considering their circumstances. But, he said that he wasn't bitter over her leaving any more…that there was something else that he was more focused on. Then when we talked about the ball, which I conveniently brought up after we had eaten our fill, I told him simply that I wasn't going.

"Erik, really. Do you expect me to parade about in some costume and socialize with people who in all reality are looking down their noses at me and anyone else whom they believe to be inferior to them?"

"But, you'll let Meg go?"

"Meg is different. She's a Prima Ballerina with a bright future ahead of her. And what do I have? I've been estranged from my Grandmother and basically working to make my ends meet…not that I have ends since I am living comfortably here. But, in truth, I'm nothing to them." _I've always been nothing to them_, was what I didn't say. "I'll never amount to anything useful and have to make do with each day as it comes."

"Anne…" He placed his hands on my shoulders, and I could feel his breath on tips of my ears. "If you keep telling yourself that, then you are setting yourself up for failure."

"It's the truth."

"A lie that's been spoon-fed to you ever since you were fifteen. For ten years, your Grandmother, who I will be paying my respects to after the beating she gave you, has lied to you and made you feel as if you didn't matter."

He turned me to him and I was startled by the look of fiery passion that I saw there. "Anne, you must listen to me. You are a bright shining star in a sea of darkness and all must see that. You cannot see the effect you've had on…on…"

He was struggling with the words, and I was confused at what he was rambling on about.

"There are lives that you've touched here at the Opera House and I have no doubt elsewhere. You cannot let yourself continue to believe that you don't mean anything at all. You have great value if only would let yourself see it."

"And you think going to a ball will allow myself to see my worth."

"No…I…ugh! I don't even know what I'm talking about."

"Is it so important that I go? Do you want me to go?"

"Well…you won't go as a bride, that's for sure."

I smiled. "You were spying on us? Erik, that's very bad manners."

"I wasn't looking at you two. Just standing on the other side of the wall, listening."

"Well, what would you have me go as?"

"Diana," he said resolutely.

"You sound as if you've given this some great thought." I returned to my dishes, very much pleased that he picked up a towel to dry them for me.

"Well, you know who she is, don't you?"

"A Roman Goddess."

"Is that all?"

"I never got around to reading the _Odyssey_ or the _Illiad_, Erik."

"Well, she was originally the goddess of hunting."

"Well, that's quite a depiction you have of me. I suppose you want boots and a tunic as well?" There was something in his eyes that I couldn't quite put a name to, but there as a fire kindled there.

"Um…no." He cleared his throat and seemed a little too preoccupied with drying a tea cup. "She eventually became the goddess of the moon, and that transformation is exactly what I propose. Something ethereal and magical."

I laughed. "I'm not a great beauty so don't you go and try to make me one." I dried my hands on my apron, relieved at finally being done with the dishes. It wasn't the most pleasant of tasks, but it was a necessary one.

"Here, let me get something for your hands." He put down the towel, and stepped out of the room.

I inspected my hands, and found nothing wrong with them. I wondered what I needed for my hands when I heard his footsteps coming back down the hall and into the kitchen. In his hands he held a bottle that had a small pump screwed to it, much like a lotion bottle.

"What is that for?"

"Something special to keep your hands from cracking. You play so much that you can hardly afford anything to happen to your hands."

He handed me the bottle and I sat it down on the table. I took a seat, and pumped a little into my hands. As I rubbed the cream colored mixture into my hands I smelt a strong scent of vanilla.

"Helps to mask the chemicals that repair any damages done to the skin."

"Is it so supposed to tingle like that?"

"A sign that it's working. Here, let me help you."

I hardly had time to object as Erik took hold of my hand and began to rub a little more of the lotion onto my hands, going up to my wrists and almost to my elbows. I had dispensed of the usual dress and had been allowed to raid through the old costume department finding a simple black skirt and a white shirt that stopped just below my elbows. It was almost hypnotic, the feel of his hands on my skin, the cool lotion slowly becoming warm as it was rubbed into my arm.

"So…will you go?"

"You're quite adamant…aren't you? Would it make you happy if I went?"

"You should take every opportunity to enjoy yourself while you're here. And besides, it's best if you get outside the Populaire as often as you can."

"Erik…I haven't a thing to wear, nor the funds to purchase such an extravagance."

"I will take care of that."

I opened my mouth to refute such an offer but he placed a finger over my lips.

"Think of it as a gesture of friendship, Anna."

The slight alteration to my name struck me and I was unable to say anything more. I simply nodded in agreement and the discussion was over.

* * *

"Oh, Anne! I just can't decide!" Meg danced around _La Marguerite's_ for nearly half an hour, going through different costume ideas.

"What about our original idea of Aphrodite?"

"Oh, Mama wouldn't dream of letting me wear anything so scandalous!"

I flipped through the costume book, before stopping at an interesting number. "How about Odette from Swan Lake?"

"Hmm?" Meg came over and peered at the page, gasping in delight. "Oh, look at all those feathers!"

"You could wear it as a message to your mother that you want her to bring back the Paris Ballet Company and that you could truly fulfill your role as Prima Donna."

And in just a few moments, Meg was finished at _La Marguerite_.

"I'm so glad you've decided to come with us," she said, looping her arm through mine as we walked down the street back to the Populaire. "Who are you going as?"

"The Roman Goddess Diana, but as she was after she became the goddess of the moon."

"Oh, that's going to be beautiful! I'm sure you will dazzle everyone there! What does it look like?"

"It's a simple white silk dress, laced with silver and gold that sparkles like diamonds. I'll have long white gloves, but my mask is my favorite part. I'll be wearing a crescent diadem, that looks like it's part of my mask. The two are separate pieces, and the mask looks like the dress, solid white with silver and gold."

"What are you going to do with your hair?"

"Leave it down."

"Bold. Of course, you're black hair will look marvelous against the white costume. You'll have men…"

"No, Meg. No talk of men. Instead, we're going to do everything we can to make you look absolutely perfect. You are the one who is going to be the belle of the ball. I hope Christine won't mind being upstaged."

"She's never been upstaged. Not really. She's always been the one upstaging other people. Oh, not in a bad way. She became Prima Donna practically overnight, and has had everything handed to her. The infatuation of our Opera Ghost, the Vicomte, and the adoration of almost all of Paris…it's been easy for her."

"Oh, Meg, don't think that. Every person has their own trials. Being a Vicomtesse is quite hard for her."

"How on earth could it possibly be hard for her? All that wealth and a husband and children!"

"Meg, don't be so bitter. Christine has had to make a hard jump in society from being almost nonexistent to in the spotlight almost overnight. This ball is to help make a good transition for her. She has almost no idea of what she's doing and it's up to us to help support her and let her know how much we care about her."

"While at the same time trying to snag a husband?"

I couldn't help but laugh at her. She truly was a distraction but I couldn't help but wonder if she too would be faced with the hardship of having to wake-up from her current day dream of a carefree life and see what life was really like once all the glamour was stripped away.

* * *

**AN: Next chapter will be the ball and it should be a long one so don't expect it up tomorrow night. Lots to do! But it's gonna be good! Cliffhangers to ensue! ~evil laugh~**


	35. So Close and Still So Far

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne just currently resides in my head until she's done telling her story. She's getting alone quite well with all of the other voices that reside up there. :)**

**AN: Okay...so, you remember that part where I said don't expect an update tomorrow? Well, apparently Anne had other ideas and whatever was supposed to happen at the ball didn't really happen, so here's what did! Enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!**

* * *

Chapter 35

Christine, in a super sweet way that I was slowly recognizing in her, had ordered a carriage to come for the two of us. Meg was thrilled to arrive in a de Chagny carriage, the family crest clearly marked on the doors. She look positively beautiful in her Swan Lake dress that wasn't really covered in thousands of feathers. _La Marguerite's_ was clearly a genius in their designs. The fabric, which appeared to be lace but definitely wasn't, was cut, styled, and layered, in such a way that it looked like her dress had feathers on it. When she turned and the light hit it just right, you could see feathers and then they disappeared. The same was said for the gloves that trailed up her arms. It was truly a remarkable design.

Erik, had truly outdone himself with my costume. I don't know where he found it or how much it cost because it was probably the most expensive thing I'd ever seen, let alone worn. The fabric felt strange against my skin and was a soft white color that truly looked like it sparkled with diamonds. The diadem on my head felt foreign, but it wasn't heavy. The crescent moon even looked like it had a diamond hanging from the tip.

"You look beautiful, Anna," Erik whispered.

I stood in front of the mirror, Meg already having left for the carriage. "I feel slightly ridiculous in all of this finery. I'm not fit for it."

"Well, luckily you only have to wear it for the one night."

"Almost seems too long." I picked up my cloak, something else Erik had found me. If my dress was the starkest white, my cloak was the darkest black, that still had small hints of a sparkling night sky.

"An Angel."

I scoffed. "I'm no more an angel than you are a phantom, Erik. But, I do thank you for the compliment." I looked at my reflection, suddenly liking Erik standing so close to me, looking at me with such praise. "You have been very kind to me."

"I think we've been kind to each other." He placed his hands on my shoulders, and I was very aware of the closeness between us. Something in the air and in his expression changed. I felt my breath quicken, my heart race, and I was suddenly very nervous.

"You should go. You're going to be late, and that won't do for the Vicomte and Vicomtess." He broke the contact.

"I wish I could see you there. You have certainly proven yourself quite a dancer."

"You've not said anything about…"

"Because I knew you wouldn't come. You still care a great deal about Christine, and I know that if you did come, it wouldn't be to see me." I bent to pick up my mask, and when I looked back up into the mirror…he was gone. I turned around, trying to see him, to see if he was playing some sort of trick on me. "Erik?" But there was no answer.

"Anne! Hurry dear, you're going to be late!" Aunt Giry came through the door and I was whisked away, without ever having a chance to say good night to Erik.

* * *

"It's positively divine!" Meg gasped, seeing the splendor of the ballroom. We had just given our cloaks away, tied our masks in place, and had picked up our dance cards. The decorations of the hall had worked quite well with the simplicity of the floral arrangements balancing so well with the grandeur of the room. "And to think this all came out of your mind, Anne."

"Nonsense! I simply gave some direction to the Vicomtess and she did the rest."

"Still, it's lovely. Shouldn't we go introduce ourselves to our hosts?"

I nodded, and led Meg to the welcoming line, which was exactly where I had suggested.

"Ah, and who do we have here?" Asked the Vicomte and I was amazed at how much a smile transformed him. What would he do when he realized who we were?

"Meg Giry, and Anne Hillcrest!" Christine guessed, correctly. "I remember Meg's dream of wanting to dance Swan Lake, and Anne is the only person who would come with her"

"Don't speak so loudly, Christine," Meg whispered, jokingly. "We want to surprise everyone at the unmasking."

"Ah, you can rest assured that I shall not tell a soul. It will add great mystery to the two of you, and since you look so beautiful, I dare say you will not rest this whole evening."

I had seen the change in the Vicomte when our names were spoken and it was revealed who we were. It was plain to see that he wished for nothing more than to be as far away from us as possible.

"And speaking of dancing," I whispered to Meg. "We should be on our way so that others can take up their time. You, already have a few admires." I looped my arm through hers and walked her to a table and two chairs that were situated along the wall. We each sat down, and admired the costume parade surrounding us. We had arrived fashionably late, so, Meg had made quite an entrance though she seemed quite persistent in the fact that they were all staring at me. When a tall man, wearing a costume that depicted the high Julius Caesar, and asked Meg to dance, I had the most extreme satisfaction of knowing that this was going to be a good night for her.

She seemed in very high spirits and laughed as she moved from person to person in the dance. Everyone, it was obvious, wanted to know who she was, and were all making their own guesses. Words like "nobility" and even "royalty" reached my ears that I wanted to burst out laughing. She didn't even come back to the table for, as the next dance began, she was asked to dance by someone else.

"Such a lovely lady should not sit alone."

The voice was not one I recognized. I looked up to see a man rivaling Apollo himself standing before me. He had blonde hair, blue eyes, and such a build that I half wondered if he came out of the Grecian sky itself.

"May I have the pleasure?" He extended a hand to me, and I almost looked about, wondering if he put his question to the right person.

"Of course," I found myself saying, and that was it. I, like Meg, moved from partner to partner, from dance to dance. It was such a feeling that I had never felt before. I tried not to let it be dashed when it dawned on me that their only first reason to ask to dance with me, was because I looked pretty. I wondered if this was how Elizabeth felt when she made her first debut. I felt so alive, and so noticed that it was disconcerting. I was entirely out of my element, but I couldn't help but enjoy myself. Apollo, Zeus, King of France, Russian Prince, they all passed before me in a blur and in time I had to sit down. Meg and I took the same dance to reprieve ourselves, and we sat at a table in a secluded corner where no one tell we would be.

"Oh, Anne, this is positively the best night of my life! I have met so many people!"

"In a way, Meg. You've not even seen their faces, and words are meaningless in a time where actions have greater power."

"Don't try and ruin it for me, Anne. I haven't danced this much in all my life, even with Mama always working us to the bone."

I laughed at her. "Well, I can honestly say that I've never met so many engaging people. Despite the fact that none of them have really said anything to me."

"Really? I've been asked so many questions. They all want to know where I live, and who I am, and who my parents are."

"And what did you tell them?" Caution nipped at me. Naïve Meg could be at times, I didn't want her to see the change in people when they found she was a working girl.

"I decided to keep up an air of mystery and gave them answers that would baffle them further. I told them I lived in Paris, that I am obviously a woman, and that my Mother is an excellent woman whom I love very dearly. None of them have an idea what to think."

I smiled at her, quite pleased with her. She could fend for herself, if only given the opportunity. It was foolish to guard her, despite my natural instinct, and I knew that only letting her live and to make her own decisions and mistakes would be the only way she could grow.

We soon made our way back to the ballroom, and Meg was whisked away immediately. I, however, found myself in the arms of the Vicomte himself.

"This has to stop," he said the moment that we were dancing.

"Whatever could you mean? I have not done anything…"

"You and Meg being here is not good for my wife. She needs a break from _your_ type of society. She's in a new world now with new rules, and in a society that will judge my wife just by whomever she looks at. I have been kind and courteous up until now, but…"

"You will forgive me, I am sure, when I call you a liar and say that you have not been courteous and kind to me. You have been cold and arrogant and, quite honestly, I cannot stand you. Christine, I like. Granted, in the beginning I did not, but then I have a bad habit of judging people by first appearances." I thought of Erik and my heart warmed. How I wished that he was here with me instead of this fool of a man.

"Perhaps you should stop accepting my wife's invitations here."

"Who Christine chooses to see and who chooses to see her, is entirely none of your affair."

"While she lives under my roof it is."

"Keep pushing her the way that you do, and you could lose her forever."

It all happened so quickly then. In the dance we were to turn about and reunite with our partner, but when I turned around to go back to the Vicomte, it was not him who stood before me. Instead, a man wearing a black tuxedo, cloak, black gloves, and a white mask stood before me. I was at first confused and puzzled and unsure of what to say until I looked at his eyes. Recognition, apparently, dawned on my face.

"I thought I should steal you away before he took _you_ from me too." A smile tugged at his mouth.

"Erik…" I whispered. "What are you doing here?"

"Come. It's not safe for us to talk here." He danced me away from the ballroom floor, and before I could even breathe, we were outside in the gardens that had been made accessible to the guests. Everyone was busy dancing, so no one saw us leave, and I was grateful. I didn't want anyone to see Erik. I did not want any danger coming to him.

"Erik," I repeated, as he drew me into the shade of a tree, away from prying eyes. "What are you doing here? It's not safe here."

"I thought I would humor you by coming to see you. You do look lovely, and you've made quite an impression on the guests of your hosts. Everyone wants to know who the Swan Princess and Diana really are."

"Seriously. You can't risk your life…"

"For what? One moment to dance with you in public even if no one were to ever see our faces and know who we were? Please, I've had such little true pleasure in life, so don't take this from me." I couldn't tell if he was joking with me or not. "I wanted some small chance to feel human, Anna. Not just some prisoner locked away in my dungeon of Hell."

My heart wrung with pity and another emotion that I couldn't quite describe it was so foreign to me. "Erik…" I sat down on a bench. "I'm not saying that I don't want you here. It's just, that you took me completely by surprise, is all. You, yourself, told me what your life was like, and I don't want it repeated by taking some risk."

He sat next to me and took my hands in his. "Any chance to see you, no matter where you are, is a risk I'm willing to take, always."

I smiled. "Erik…I…" I couldn't go on, because just like in my room earlier, the air changed. There was a strange electric tension that was hanging between Erik and me. My heart began to race again, and I felt as if I would jump out of my very skin. His face was so close to mine, just like that time we had danced a waltz in his music room. That look was there, and I realized that I was just a few seconds away from being kissed, and this time, there was no fear. I didn't instinctively pull away like I did last time. Everything changed in that one moment. Erik was no longer just my friend, my protector. He had stopped being that for some time, and I just didn't realize it. I loved him. I loved him in such a strong powerful way because we were two broken people trying to be put back together, and we were being put back together with the help of the other. I lost myself to the moment, the music of the night, and to the kiss that was so close…so very, very close.

* * *

**AN: I completely expect my review/pm box to be completely filled with freak outs by the time I wake up in the morning. Love you all!**


	36. Then My World Was Shattered

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne just currently resides in my head until she's done telling her story. She's getting alone quite well with all of the other voices that reside up there. :)**

**AN: Alright, so this chapter is where the "T" rating comes in. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!**

* * *

Chapter 36

He had never wanted to kiss a woman so badly in his entirely life until he had been faced with this moment. Even his once beloved Christine could not have made him feel the way that he did at this exact moment. Anne was like some sort of melody he just could not get out of his head. He knew he shouldn't have risked it and come to the de Chagny manor and whisk her away as he did. Someone, anyone, could have seen them, and he knew that it didn't take much for a woman's honor to be lost. But he would rescue her, just as he promised he would.

There were a thousand things he had wanted to say to her, a thousand promises to make, and a single vow that just begged to be made. But to kiss her, to actually kiss her lips, was a glimpse of heaven that he wanted before anything else in this world. He would have given his life just to have one kiss from Anne. He dared to dream of everything else, for he knew that she would never be his…not once she saw his face, which he knew that if was to truly have her, she would have to see it. But not now. No, not now. Now, his fingers ran through her dark tresses and untied her mask. He saw her beautiful eyes that appeared white in the moonlight. He saw her lips part and her eyes close in invitation. Did he dare take such the precious gift for what it was? Yes…yes, he did.

"Anne! Anne, where are you?! They're getting ready for the unmasking."

Erik made a mental note to throttle Meg Giry at the first possible second she was alone. Anne, instantly drew away, her eyes wide with shock.

"Erik…she can't see you here."

"It's just, Meg."

"Yes, but with Meg could be the Vicomte and Christine, and I will not let you risk your life on my account."

"_You_ will not?" Since when did she have that sort of say?

"Erik, please. I…I…believe me, I want you to stay here with me, and…but you must go!" She pushed at his chest that Erik knew that he had to go. He had no desire to see the happy married couple, but he wanted to stay for Anne.

"Come see me, tomorrow."

"Yes, for there is something we have to talk about. I will come tomorrow. I promise. Now, go!"

Erik disappeared into the night, not stopping until he reached the sanctity of his home. He had been so close! Why was he being constantly denied of the one thing he wanted the most?!

* * *

I watched him leave, until I was sure that he was out of sight and into safety. I could not bear to have anything happen to him, now that I had just found him. He took my heart with him, I had to make sure that he was safe.

"Anne, what are you doing out here?" Meg came up behind me, and I tried hard not to be mad at her. She was just trying to look out for me, like I did her, but she did pick the most inconvenient times to be concerned.

"I…came out for some fresh air."

"You disappeared in there. One minute you were dancing with Raoul, the next you were gone." Christine came up and took my hands. "You're trembling!"

"I'm…cold…" I was without Erik's warmth now, and I felt cold both inside and out. "I…I need to go inside."

Meg wrapped her arm around me and helped me inside. She secured my mask, which as pointless as the Vicomte and Vicomtess made their way to the front of the ballroom on to a small stage and declared that as it was midnight, everyone should take off their masks and reveal who they were. Meg did so with a joyful smile on her face and I will admit that it was a pleasant feeling seeing everyone stare in shock at not being able to recognize her. Meg told me later that she intended to be a true woman of mystery and bow out of the spotlight so that she would surprise them all when she danced the Swan Lake ballet.

The curiosity was the same as my mask fell away, but they were still not quite sure what to think as my face had been painted with an almost replica of my mask, so it was still hard to determine who I was. Still, Meg and I determined that it was time for us to return home, despite the fact that our admirers were lining up to talk to us. Christine gave us a fond farewell, and I said not a word to the Vicomte, his words still ever ringing in my ears.

The entire carriage ride home, Meg was talking about the ball and who she danced with and who she thought they really were. She made up stories about who was an earl, a duke, a baron, or even a real prince. I paid attention as well as I could, but in truth I was only half-heartedly listening. I didn't want to wait till tomorrow to see Erik. I wanted to see him now and to tell him what I felt, and to wonder if maybe, just maybe he could feel the same way about me too. The carriage deposited us at the usual spot and Meg said that she wanted to go see her mother to tell her all about the ball. I had thought that her mother would have been in bed long before now, but Meg was determined.

I went on ahead and made my way to our room, wishing that I could go and find Erik, but I didn't want to risk getting lost in the almost completely dark Opera House. I stood in front of my dresser, set my mask aside, and took off the diadem. As I gently placed it on my dresser I saw a small piece of paper folded on my dresser with my name written on it. I picked up and saw a to words written on it: _The Chapel_. Instinctively knowing that it was Erik, I didn't bother with taking off my costume and hastened to the chapel, being able to find my way completely by memory.

When I got here, the candelabra was completely lit, and there was no Erik. I called out for him, knowing he would be just behind the walls, waiting for me.

"Erik? Erik, I'm here."

I waited for what seemed like an eternity, and then I heard a slow steady breath. I turned to the doorway, for that was where I was sure he was standing. I turned to greet him with a smile on my face, but my smile quickly faded and my shoulders slumped.

"Faucher, I have no desire to see you tonight. You will kindly leave." I felt my heart quicken in fear when he stepped into the room and shut the door. I heard the faint click of a lock, but I did not see a key. "Didn't you hear me? I said leave!"

"You know, Anne, women are so gullible. They'll believe anything, just as you believed that it was your…what was it Erik, who gave you that note."

"_You _left it?"

"I was here when you met up with your lover the last time. I heard you talking, as I stood on the other side of that door. You know, you should really be more careful with when you think that no one is listening."

"You let me out of here, Faucher. I will not tell you again."

"I'm amazed at how you think that you get to be the one that gives the orders here." He smiled and fear struck cold at my heart as well as an old memory that had long since been suppressed. "You see, I actually work here all the time, while you just serve your little uses and then live off the charity of others. So, I actually outrank you, so it's me who gives the orders here."

I looked about the room, trying to find something to fend him off, and found only the candelabra. That was not going to prove any use at all. There was nothing. I was defenseless, and had no way to protect myself against this madman.

"Do you know, that every girl here knows that I get what I want from them, and I…let them live?"

I saw a glimmer of a knife and I felt my knees give out. I crumpled to the floor, orders and commands from another mouth ringing loud in my ears.

"So…you do what _I_ say, and you don't put up any struggle, and I'll let you live to see the daylight of the morning."

"_Do as I say…no harm will come to you…be a good little girl…_" The words replayed over and over in my head like a broken record.

"No!" I screamed. I somehow found strength in my legs and I managed to stand up. I tried to get away but Faucher was far too strong. He tried to grab my arm but grabbed my dress instead. I felt the fabric give and tear and I fell against the stone wall. My ears ringing, darkness threatening to overtake me. I struggled to stay focused, determined not to let go of the light flickering from the candles.

I looked at Faucher and found him holding the better part of my dress. I saw my legs exposed and tried to find someway to cover myself. I knew that this would end up being a losing battle no matter how hard I fought. The stark reality of what I had only believed to be nightmares came into sharp focus. The puzzle picture finally became clear.

He stalked closer to me, the knife raised to do damage if I gave him any struggle. Fear paralyzed me, and I tried to scream, doubtful that anyone could hear me. I could only think of Erik, and how I wished that he had kissed me, and that I could have told him how much I cared about him…that I loved him.

* * *

"I honestly think that Anne's gone to bed, Mother. She seemed really tired." Meg opened the door to their bedroom, curious as to why her mother seemed so anxious to see Anne. When she lit a candle, Meg and Madame Giry both saw that the bed was empty and that Anne was not there. "Huh, that's funny. She couldn't have gone anywhere…" She sat her mask aside and started working on the fastenings of her dress.

"Meg, who left this note?"

She looked up to find her mother holding a piece of paper. "No, unless that's from the Opera Ghost, I couldn't think of anyone who would leave her a note."

"It would be signed if it was from, and this isn't."

"Maybe she's found a secret admirer." She finished with the fastenings and slipped the dress off, entirely missing the apprehensive look that came over her mother's face. The trace of fear, quickly replaced with a mask long worn.

"Meg, you get some sleep, and I'll see you in the morning."

"Alright, mother," Meg replied, entirely lost in her own world.

Madame Giry quickly ran out and went to the nearest place that would trip Erik's security that he had a visitor. She didn't have to wait long in the corridor as he almost seemed to be expecting someone. His face turned to a harsh anger upon seeing her.

"You better have a good excuse, Madame."

"Is Anne with you?"

"No, she is not. Why do you ask?"

"I think she may be in some trouble. Here, I found this note in her room. I thought maybe you would have sent it."

"I have no need to send notes to her." He took it anyway and read it. "Who would ask her to come to the chapel."

"I think you know the answer just as well as I do."

Erik's blood ran cold and a few unlike any he had ever known caused him to tremble. "Faucher." Leaving Madame Giry to run on as fast as she could, Erik sped down the hallway and to the chapel. He hoped that she was not really there, and that the man that waited for her had thought better of his ridiculous scheme.

The door was shut when he reached the chapel, but he could hear voices on the other side. He heard his precious Anne…and he heard her scream. The door, one of his own devices, was impossible to open from the outside. He had to find a second way in, and luckily he had built a doorway in the wall that opened to a walkway that had a door that opened into the chapel.

What he saw made his blood boil with rage. Anne was pinned against the wall, her dress in tatters, the make-up of her face streaked with her tears. Faucher with one hand had a knife pressed against her throat, the other was fumbling with the buttons of his trousers. There was no time to think, only to act. He raced into the room grabbing Faucher and throwing him across the room. He had a brief moment of clarity and opened the door because Madame Giry was undoubtedly right behind him.

"Anna…are you alright?" He gently held her, checking to see if she had any broken bones. The sight of the gash on her neck and the bruise across face made him almost violent.

"Behind you!" She screamed, giving Erik only a split second to turn and see Faucher coming at him with his knife raised just barely a foot away from his back.

The Punjab Lasso was ready, though he swore that he would never use it again. It was over with a simple flick of the wrist. Faucher's neck was broken, and he lay dead upon the stone floor.

"Anne!" Madame Giry raced in and began checking her niece to see if there was any sort of mortal blow on her. "What happened?"

"I came here…thinking that…Erik….needed to speak with me." Her sobs tore at her until she was entirely hysterical.

"Erik, we can't take her back to Meg's room. She'll know."

"My home. It's the only safe place for her. She can recover there." Erik quickly took his cloak and he threw it over Anne, covering her. He tried to pick her up but she shrank from his touch and turned only to her Aunt. He tried not tell himself that it was the hysterics that made her shrink away but he couldn't quite convince himself. She had just seen him kill a man…well, as close to a man as Faucher could be classified.

"I'll help her. I think walking will do her good." Madame Giry helped her niece stand, and Erik opened the secret passageway, but when he looked back he saw Anne flitting between consciousness and sleep. She crumbled to the floor again and gripped at her Aunt's robe.

"Aunt…I remember."

"You remember what, Anne?" The fear in Antoinette's voice was clearly heard by Erik.

"The music teacher…I remember what he did to me. It wasn't a nightmare. It really happened!" And then, Anne was lost to sleep.

* * *

**AN: Did not like to write this scene, but it had to happen. We know now what happened to Anne...now we have to know why. And we shall!**


	37. Putting Thoughts Together

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne just currently resides in my head until she's done telling her story. She's getting alone quite well with all of the other voices that reside up there. :)**

**AN: I pushed this chapter out tonight because I didn't want you all to completely kill me with 36's cliffhanger. :) Enjoy! It's all coming out in the open tomorrow! **

* * *

Chapter 37

Erik laid Anne down on the bed in his home, making sure that cloak kept her covered. Antoinette put the covers over her niece and then sat down on the bedside. She pushed away the hair from her face, and accepted the basin of water and cloth that he offered. Slowly and methodically, she began to wipe away the make-up on her face. He watched as Diana melted away and he could see his Anna once more. But even in sleep, Anne was in pain. Her furrowed brow and the way her lips moved as if to say something made him believe she had another delirious fever, but he knew better this time. She was caught in another nightmare.

He couldn't bear to see her looking that way so he had to do something to keep his mind preoccupied. He knew that Faucher's body would have to be moved. He wanted to cut his body into thousands of little pieces and feed them to dogs, but that would take time that he did not have, and energy that he did not feel like using. He left the two women alone, closing the door behind him. The realization of what had just happened hadn't fully settled in on him, he was still in too much of a state of what could only be called shock. He should have protected her from Faucher. He should have known the despicable person that Faucher was and gotten rid of me ages ago. No, he had seen to the state of affairs of the Opera House and Anne, and, undoubtedly, countless other women had paid the price.

He made quick work of getting rid of the body. He dumped it in the Seine without anyone noticing since it was almost two o'clock in the morning, and then returned to his underground home, only to find Anne still asleep.

"I should probably take her back up to her room," Antoinette suggested.

"And risk Meg's fright when Anne wakes up hysterical," was his brusque reply. "Leave her here. I'll take care of her."

"You'll take care of her? You'll keep her down here with you and she'll never see the light of day again."

"I have no such desire, Madame, now you may kindly leave."

She looked at him, and after a heated stare, Erik had to look away. "You love her, don't you." It was not a question, just a simple statement of fact.

"If that were the case, don't you think that Anne should be the first to know. I'm not going to dignify you with any other response."

She smiled and Erik hated that smile. "Well, if that's the case…I'll come and check on my niece in the morning."

"Before you go…can you tell me what she meant just before she fainted?"

"I can tell you, Erik, because her mother confided in me and only me. However, I won't tell you, but I'm sure that if you put together the incidents of this night, I'm sure you will come to the most logical conclusion." She bade him goodnight, and passed out of the room without another word.

Erik pulled up a chair next to the bed and took one of her hands in his. With what Madame Giry said, combined with the apprehension she had shown him whenever he got close to her, it wasn't hard to realize what had happened to her and why she couldn't remember. Erik's first thought was anger and he wanted a name for the blackguard that took away her innocence, her childhood, and her dreams for the future. He knew enough of society to know that if she had married, and her husband found out that she wasn't a pure bride…the consequences for her would have been disastrous. His second thought turned quickly to pity as Anne, herself, probably knew this truth about society and so was most likely determined to never marry. Because of the sin of one man, she had been resolute in placing other people's happiness before her own. Such a selfless love was not one that many women carried.

This was the dark secret that she had…and that she finally remembered. This was the fear that awoke her at night and haunted her dreams while she slept. This was her final barrier. Everything about her made sense now and he loved her all the more. As he placed another cloth on her head, another realization dawned upon him. He could have lost her tonight. If even if just the slightest thing had gone wrong…if he hadn't gone up when Madame Giry tripped his alarms, Anne would either been at the mercy of that wretched man, or worse…dead. He nearly choked with the knowledge that this small happiness of his could have been over tonight. But then, he never was guaranteed anything in this life…not him. Certainly this love that he felt for Anne, and certainly not any love from her in return.

Determined to put his mind to other uses, he found a small bandage and began to work at the gash on Anne's neck. It had thankfully stopped bleeding but it ran from her collarbone to the tip of her sternum. At least, this way, he could keep his hands and mind preoccupied and not build up false hopes and false dreams.

* * *

I woke up to a familiar yet puzzling surrounding. I had woken up in this room before, but I had no recollection how I even got down to Erik's lair in the first place. I slowly started to rise, putting a hand on my head when I finally was able to sit up. I blinked a few times to try to get my eyes to focus and when everything finally appeared less fuzzy I tried to get up. I found my way blocked however, as I saw that Erik was sitting next to my bed his face buried in the covers and his hand grasping my hand that still rested on the bed. I wondered how long I had been asleep. How long had my mind taken to rebuild the barriers?

But no, there were no barriers this time. I remembered everything from the night before: the ball, dancing with Erik, what would have been our first kiss, and then…Faucher. I trembled and drew my knees up under my chin. What he had done…and what he had almost done sent fear into my heart but then I remembered that Erik, as promised, came and rescued me. I owed him my life, now. It was a debt that I could never fully repay, but then I found myself not wanting to repay it. If I was in debited to Erik, then he would never leave me, and I liked that idea.

With the memory of last night, came the memory of those four years that took on a new appearance now that I remembered what happened. I felt dirty and almost akin to refuse when my mind replayed everything that happened to me when my mother left me alone in the house…with that man. She always made me believe in the morning that it was a nightmare and after that man stopped, in time I came to believe that it was nothing more than bad dreams and I forgot all about it come morning. But why had my mother tried to convince me it was a dream? Did she know what was happening to me? No…she couldn't want to put me through that. Then…why?

Erik stirred beside me, and I saw that his mask was slipping. I knew his feelings about letting me see his face so I quickly laid back down and closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep. I waited for a few moments, feeling his pressure on my hand go away, and then, after a small space of time where I was sure he had straightened his mask, I felt his hands on my face. I made a small show of waking up, giving him plenty of time to see that I was rising. I found his eyes instantly and smiled.

"Good morning, Erik."

"Yes, it is morning." He glanced over at the bedside clock. "It's almost nine."

"I guess…I needed the time to sleep…and the time to heal."

"Then, you remember what happened last night?"

I looked away, embarrassed. "Yes, I remember. I know I won't be able to forget it this time."

"This time?"

I slowly got up, feeling much stronger this time. "Erik, now that I remember…I want you to know the truth. I just…need to put my thoughts in order."

He pointed to a chest that was at the foot of my bed. It was my chest…from my room. "I took the liberty of going to get your things while you were asleep. I will draw a bath for you, and then once you've eaten and feel up to it, we'll talk. But not until you're ready."

"Thank you, Erik. Not just for this, but for everything. You've been a really good friend to me. I don't know what I'd do without you."

I saw him grimace when I called him a friend, and I felt a little awkward. He stepped out of the room, pointing to a door that opened up to the bath chamber.

"I'll knock once the water's ready."

"Thank you," I whispered, as he stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him.

When I was sure that he had left, I got out bed, trying to make sure that I was steady on my feet. Feeling good with my equilibrium, I walked over to the chest and opened it. I pulled out the necessary undergarments and picked out one of my old day dresses that I had used to wear when I went calling in England. I soon heard Erik's knock on the bathroom door and I went in.

The coloring of the bedroom went into the bathroom as well. The floor and walls were all dark and the cabinets were the same dark wood that was in the bedroom. I laid my clothes aside and as I stood up to take off my tattered dress, I looked in the mirror and saw the bandage on my neck. I touched it slightly, remembering the knife held at me and the threats to kill me if I made any struggled. I pushed the unpleasant memory aside, got undressed and stepped into the bath, letting the hot steamy water soak into my skin.

The water smelled of roses, and I took my sweet time bathing, losing all track of time. I even washed my hair, which was something that I did only on special occasions. When the water had gotten considerably cold, I stepped out and toweled off quickly. I dressed, taking care of the bandage on my neck, and glad that I picked something that had an open neck. I towel dried my hair and combed it out with one of the brushes that were available on the cabinets. I left my room, and made my way to find Erik.

I found him in the music room, and had a fire waiting for me, as well as a small breakfast. I sat down in an overstuffed chair, letting him tuck a blanket around me as I settled in. I was amazed at how patient he was with me. He played for me, a song I had never heard of before and I wondered if he had written it himself. Erik even sang for me, which was a rarity and I felt all of the tension in my body, that I had thought long gone after my bath, just seep away from my body. I felt comforted by the sound of his voice. It was a soothing sound that made me feel safe and protected from every danger…well, every danger except my mind.

"You've been very patient with me, Erik," I said, after finishing my breakfast and setting my plate aside.

"You don't have to tell me anything." He knelt down next to me, and took my hands in his.

"Thank you, but I feel like I do. Now that I remember, I have to share it with someone, and you're the only person I truly trust now. So, if you like, I'd like to tell you what happened after Papa died."

"Only if you want to."

"I don't just want to, Erik. I need to." I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes, letting my mind travel back in time. Back to when I was eleven years old, when I had just lost my father, and I had only my mother, and my sister.

* * *

**AN: Okay, I'm drawing on you all for this one! Would you rather A:) Have the story told from Anne's point of view? or B:) Have the story told like it actually happened, with the thought process of both Anne, and her Mother and told as an actual story instead of a narrative? Leave me a review/comment/pm to let me know! I really don't know how to progress with this! Black ribbon roses for all of you!**


	38. Anne's Story The Missing Years Part I

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne just currently resides in my head until she's done telling her story. She's getting alone quite well with all of the other voices that reside up there. :)**

**AN: I'm sorry this has taken me a while to post! I hope you all realize that I wrote over 50,000 words in November and so I'm having a little bit of burn out ( and when I mean a little I mean A LOT ) and these next few chapters are hard for me to write, and require a lot of thought to make it all work out okay! Don't kill me! :-) **

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Chapter 38

**The Summer of 1861**

"Mama…where is Papa?"

It had been at least the tenth time in the past ten minutes that Elizabeth had asked that question, and her mother was growing excessively tired and annoyed. She turned to give her daughter a lecture about being quiet and refraining from her incessant questions, but she found that Anne had, once again, taken over the role of supportive mother. She had her arm around her sister's shoulders, trying to console her.

"Papa is gone, Lizzie. Papa has gone to sleep and won't wake up." As always, Elizabeth burst into tears and Anne did all she could to dry them. As always, Maria was grateful for her eldest daughter, especially now that they had only each other. It had been a terrible month being destitute with no where they could even lay down their head. They had been on the street, Maria and sometimes Anne trying to find odd jobs to keep them alive…even if just barely. She hated to see the bones of her daughters' cheeks, as they had barely scraped enough to have just one meal a day, and even then, Maria had made sure that she had given up her portion to her children. Anne, however, still looked gaunt but Elizabeth shone like the morning sun.

"Girls…I have very good news." Maria took each daughter by the hand and led them down the cobblestone street. "I have managed to find a suitable position for us."

"That's wonderful, Mama!" Anne squeezed her hand while Elizabeth seemed at a loss. "Lizzie, Mama has found work and now we may have a place to sleep."

"Like our old house, Annie?"

"No my child, not like our old house. I'm afraid these living arrangements are going to be a far cry from what we were used to. Things are a lot different for us now."

"Because Papa is gone, and we have no money?"

"Yes, Elizabeth."

* * *

"Ah, Mrs. Hillcrest…you've arrived finally. And these are your two daughters I presume?"

Anne had never seen such a fiercer woman in all her life, and she had thought that her governess was scary. This woman was obviously the housekeeper, as she wore an all black dress, a white cap, and a ring of white keys was secured around her white apron. She grasped her mother's hand tighter but she wasn't going to hide behind her skirt the way Elizabeth was. She had to be strong for her little sister and to prove to her mother that she could handle herself. In the past month, Anne had done small work in order to help her family. She had, secretly, given her sister her portion of food many times, only eating when she knew she would pass out and that would obviously give her away to her mother.

"Yes, ma'am. Anastasia, my oldest, and Elizabeth, my youngest."

"Yes very well, come in then."

Anne was so glad to get out of the cold. The warmth of the house immediately went into through her thread-bare dress, through her skin and into her very bones. The house was far grander than their come in the country. White and black marble floors, with floor to ceiling columns, and the many paintings that greeted the viewer made her feel insignificant and inferior. She felt the need to bow her head in shame, but was determined to not let anything get the better of her.

"Take the girls into the kitchen, and then you and I are going to talk about your duties here. Kitchen is through that door and down the stairs. I'll be waiting here for you."

"Come on girls."

Mama led us through the door and down the stairs and I saw a place I had only glimpsed when we lived in the country. The kitchen was not a busy place during this time of day, since we had arrived just after lunch was over. There was, however, a roaring fire which Mama led us to. Lizzie was very reluctant to let go of Mama's hand, but she seemed content to stay if I did.

"Ah, the new crew!" A woman who could only be the cook came up to us, with a warm cheery smile. "I daresay you two are chilled to the bone. Come and sit and we'll have a cup of cocoa and a plate of cookies."

"Mama?" Anne looked up at her mother, asking for permission.

"Go ahead, darlings. I'll be back in just a few minutes." Maria smiled kindly at her children and gratefully at the cook, before returning upstairs.

"Now, you two have a seat next to the fire, and Cook will take care of you."

"Thank you," Anne whispered, getting as close to the fire as she dared. As she slowly sipped her cocoa she couldn't truly understand the situation her mother was in upstairs.

* * *

"I'm impressed that you answered our advertisement as soon as you did."

"I was looking for employment for quite some time and I knew this was just as good as any I could hope for." Maria took the offered seat, taking great care not to get any dirt on the chairs.

Mrs. Fairfax, the housekeeper, sat down as well, folding her hands in her lap. "Yes, a governess is something we are always in need of here, as the children cannot seem to focus and have a tendency to drive the previous governesses mad."

"Children can press their boundaries as far as they can, it just depends on whether or not there is any corrective action taken that determines the outcome of both parties."

"You speak from experience?"

Maria smiled. "My eldest was quite willful during her early years, and at times still can be, but a firm hand, as well as looking after her sister, has taken some of that out of her."

"Yes. I told the Mrs. Wetherington about your situation and she's agreed to let your youngest and your youngest only be a companion for her children and to take lessons with them."

"But what about…"

"Your eldest, I'm afraid, is going to have to earn her keep here. The charity is offered to only one." Mrs. Fairfax smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'm grateful for whatever kindness. What shall Anne be doing?"

"She has spirit and a lot of energy. She'll be below stairs, of course, and probably end up doing a lot of polishing since her fingers are so small. Just keep her busy, and make sure she doesn't get in anyone's way." Mrs. Fairfax stood up, her keys jingling. "Now, if you come with me, I'll show you room."

Maria followed the housekeeper, saddened by the thought that her precious Anne had to work. It couldn't be avoided, but she had wanted to be the one responsible to making sure that her children were taken care of. She wanted to be the provider, but now, that, like so many other things, was out of her hands.

Her room, the room that she would share with her children, was located on the third floor next the nursery. Surprisingly, it was a spacious room that could easily house the three of them. A large bed was pushed up against one wall, and there was a dresser, wardrobe, and a vanity. The window, which also housed a window seat, overlooked the gardens in the back. The walls were painted a soft blue color and the floors were covered in a thick off white carpet.

"It's beautiful," Maria could hardly believe the good fortune that had been finally given to them. "I cannot thank you for your kindness."

"You'll share this room with your youngest daughter, while your eldest will sleep with the rest of the servants in their quarters located in the attics."

Maria whirled around. "Excuse me?"

"You honestly didn't expect to share this room with both of your children did you? Your eldest is a servant now in this household and must, therefore, act and live like one. We've given you the opportunity for one of your daughters to have some sort of dignity, Mrs. Hillcrest. After your husband's shocking death, you should be grateful of any kindness given to you."

Maria gripped the bedpost, shocked that the story of her family's demise came even this far away from the countryside she lived in. "Yes…I am grateful, it's just…Anne is my eldest."

"Better suited to work than your youngest. Elizabeth could quite possibly marry well enough to save your family from servitude. Be grateful for this small chance, and learn to make due with the cards handed to you." Mrs. Fairfax left Maria to her thoughts, but Maria could hardly think. Anne had always been her favorite and she had had great plans for her when she had reached the age to marry. She didn't have the money to send her to live in Paris, but perhaps if she scraped enough then in a few years, she could send Anne to live with Antoinette at the Opera House. Maria touched the locket around her neck and pulled it out from beneath her dress. She cradled it in her hand, thinking back to the dear friend she left behind in the dungeons of the Populaire. Yes, one day, Anne _would_ go to the Opera House and make sure that he was alright, and perhaps…in time…

She pushed the thoughts of the future aside, as she knew now that tomorrow was always uncertain and one shouldn't plan for a day that would probably never arrive. She left her room, closing the door behind her, and made her way back down to the kitchen so that she could explain to Anne and to Elizabeth what had befallen them.

* * *

Anne's first day working had caused her hands to bleed, her knees to ache, and her back to stiffen. She had washed all of the dishes in scalding hot water, polished all the silver till it shined and had even wiped all of the glasses twice. She had scrubbed the floor in the main hall, waxed it, had polished the stairs, and had even dusted all of the wood furniture in the receiving room. She had been roused from her relaxing sleep at four in the morning, been given a bowl of oatmeal to scarf down before chores started at four-thirty. Lunch had been a small sandwich with a glass of water, and then more chores until dinner at seven, after the family had eaten. She had never known such exhaustion, and had only wanted the comfort of a soft bed when she ran into her mother and sister.

"Annie!" Elizabeth smiled and rushed to her. "Why are you dressed like that? You're covered in dirt!"

Anne smiled and tried to wipe away the dirt on her dress. "Better?"

"No…not really." Elizabeth laughed and Anne looked away in embarrassment.

"Come along, Anne. We'll get you all cleaned up." Her mother extended a hand which she gratefully took.

Anne was thrilled with the hot water that washed away the dirt and grime of the day. Elizabeth was in the other room curled up in the window seat going over the day's lesson, so it was just Anne and her mother.

"Things are going to change, Anastasia. It won't be like this forever."

Though so young, Anne knew instinctively what her mother went. "It's alright, Mama."

"No, my daughter, it isn't. It isn't fair…"

"To be quite honest, Mama, we are in no position to talk about the subject of fairness." Anne submerged herself in the hot water to rinse off the soap, and then quickly rose back up. "We have a new position in life, and we must adapt. To think back on the luxuries of yesterday or the uncertainty of tomorrow will only prevail to drive us insane."

Her mother didn't say anything, and Anne quickly finished taking her bath. "I'm really tired, Mama, I should probably be going. After the day I've had, I need to rest."

"Of…of course. Just let me know if you need anything."

"All I need for you to do is take care of Elizabeth. She needs a lot more nurturing than I do." She put on her work dress, somewhat dry after laying next to the fire. Anne towel dried her hair and then let her mother plait it.

"Never forget who you are, Anne. You are a strong young lady and will make a strong impact on someone very special."

"Mama, I'm only eleven."

"A lot can happy at that age. I had met someone very special at your age."

"Who?" Anne watched her mother touch the locket she had always worn around her neck. In her young mind, she had imagined it to be a picture of her father.

"Someone I have never forgotten."

Anne kissed her mother, said goodbye to Elizabeth and then made her way below stairs.

"And just where have you been, Anne?" It was the first question directed to her by the housekeeper, Mrs. Fairfax.

"I've been with my mother," was her timid reply. Whatever signs of bravado she felt while being with her mother, they quickly vanished in the presence of the formidable housekeeper.

"You are not to associate with your mother or with your sister. You are a servant in this house, and will act as such. No more private meetings with your mother, do you understand?"

"No…I…don't."

Mrs. Fairfax huffed, her nose flaring, and her eyes narrowing. "You're only eleven, so it's quite understandable that you do not comprehend what I'm saying." She grabbed Anne's arm and led her back up the stairs and into the attic, where all the other maids were preparing for bed. "You sleep here, with the rest of the girls. You do not associate with the rest of the household, and that includes your mother and your sister. You are no longer a rich girl with all of the opportunities once dangled before your eyes. You have to earn your keep, do your work like a good girl, and pray to whatever God you choose, that we do not throw you out on the street."

Anne stood dumbfounded as Mrs. Fairfax turned and walked away. She didn't noticed when one of the other maids came forward and guided her to an empty bed. There was a small chest at the foot of the bed. Anne was assisted out of her work dress and into a nightdress. They were saying comforting words, but she didn't pay any heed to them. As she was put into bed, the covers placed over, tears came to her eyes. She could do with the riches, the finery, and the pretty dresses. She could even do without the simplicity of her younger sister…but her mother. To be told that she could not even so much as talk to her mother was a loss that her young heart was not ready to bear.


	39. Anne's Story The Missing Years Part II

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne, however, she's mine...well, she resides in my head until her story is done.**

**AN: Alright, so some were for 1st person, the others were for 3rd person. So, I did both! **

* * *

Chapter 39

"My first year, was hard, at best," I whispered, looking out the window, surprised to see a lake instead of the dreary landscape of England. "My mother, in time, accepted outwardly the fact that we could not be seen associating together, but we always found ways to spend time with each other. She never really took her meals with the family, so Cook always sent me with her tray so I could at least see her and talk to her for a few minutes while she ate. My life always became easier when it was made apparent to the other maids that I was not going to be a weeping child who always needed her mother, but an independent person that could shift fairly well from task to task. I seemed to go up in their estimation."

I looked down at my hands startled to find that they weren't bleeding and callused. I had become so absorbed in my telling that I had lost track of where I was…and almost what age I was. In my mind I was the eleven year old girl, who wanted nothing more than a mother's love. "By the end of my first year, I had found my way into the hearts of many of the maids, especially Cook, and, if the housekeeper hadn't found something for me to do, I hid out in the kitchen, learning how to make anything and everything imaginable."

"And, Elizabeth?"

"I suppose if a person must be blamed, it would be Mama for her attention to me and her lack of attention to Elizabeth. When my sister became on good terms with the young ladies of the household, it was made to her understanding that I was beneath her and that if she ever wanted to matter to anything, I had to be treated more like a servant than a sister. To this day, I've never known whether or not she enjoyed ordering me about as if I were her own private slave. I was always the person she called on when she needed her chamber pot cleaned, or the fireplace cleaned out, or some other such gruesome task that I should not have truly been asked to do. Elizabeth studied with the young ladies, which had to be awkward since the governess was our mother."

I settled back into the chair, and grabbed hold of the arm rests. Erik would want to know about the…incident, and there was no way I was going to get out of it. Already, I could feel the fear creep into my body, even though I knew I was perfectly safe. Erik seemed to sense that I was uncomfortable as he stood me up and drew me to him. I noticed how perfectly I fit into his arms and I felt so safe…so protected…so truly cared for.

"For three years, this mundane life continued on. During this time, I still sang to my heart's content, when I was sure no one, especially Mrs. Fairfax, was around. However, it made its way around that I had 'superb voice.' A 'voice that rivaled the angels in heaven.' They were all silly comments to make me feel better, but apparently Mrs. Wetherington thought that it wouldn't do to let my voice go to waste. I had a use to her after all, and so I was allowed to have a once a week thirty minute private lesson with a voice instructor that came regularly to see the eldest Miss Wetherington who had a voice like a frog." I laughed. "She had such a singing voice that I'm sure would have made La Carlotta sound like an ethereal being."

I could feel Erik's body shake and I knew he was laughing with me.

"My mother had made over one of Elizabeth's dresses, letting out the hems, cutting the sleeves, so that it looked perfect. It was the best dress I owned, and it was the only dress that I wore to my lessons." I took a shaky breath, the memories coming back fresh to my mind. "At first, everything was fine, and nothing was out of the ordinary. He praised me for my voice, commented on my excellent technique, and wished that I was a young lady of society because I then would have been destined to astound all of England."

Erik was silent, waiting for me to continue.

"For three months, everything was fine. My lessons commenced before lunch, and we were often by ourselves. Mama was always busy with lessons, and after three years with the family, she trusted them well enough to protect me." I grimaced and closed my eyes. "Then, one day the family said that they were going away for a brief holiday and my mother and Elizabeth were asked to accompany them. They were hesitant to leave me, but I assured them that I was quite alright staying behind. The only people, however, that still stayed on at the house were the cook and the housekeeper. I thought it a strange custom that when the family left, so did the staff, but I guess it was customary with this family.

I felt tears coming to my eyes. "The first time, I was dressed in my usual dress, and Mrs. Fairfax and Cook in conference in the kitchen, so I was all alone. We had just gone through some warm-ups when he said that I was standing incorrectly. I was confused as I was had good posture, but he came over and placed one hand on my stomach, the other on my back, supposedly fixing how I stood. I was too shocked to say anything when he unfastened the buttons on the back of my dress. It was only when I could feel the dress being actually taken off that I struggled. But it was no use. He was far too strong. Every time I tried to scream he put a hand over my mouth, and all the hard work had ruined my nails so I couldn't scratch him or anything. I had lost the battle from the very beginning."

"It was over and done within a matter of minutes but to me it felt like an eternity. When he was finished, he put my dress back on, fixed my hair, and told me to dry my eyes. If it hadn't been for my tear stained face, it would have appeared that we would have had a normal lesson, and that nothing had happened. Before I left the room however, he placed his lips very close to my ear and said that if I told anyone what had happened, he would kill me and my family."

"How many times did this happen?" His voice was like ice, but I knew it wasn't directed at me.

"Everyone was gone for three weeks. Before they had left, he had talked Mrs. Wetherington into letting him come a little more often during that time as he himself would be leaving when they returned. She gave her consent, and so he came three times a week while they were gone."

"Nine times?!"

I nodded, burying my face in his chest. "I was so young, and believed him that he would kill my family. My own life I didn't care about as I wished I was dead when it was over each time. During the day, I could go on as usual, but it was during the night that things got bad. I had terrible dreams that plagued me, and after a while, I started spending the nights with my mother, and she would calm me, but I never told her what my dreams were about. In time, I was able to block out those three weeks as if they had never existed, but the nightmares still lingered."

"What happened to him?"

"When the family returned, he left, promising to return, but he never did."

"Your mother never suspected?"

I shook my head. "No, but we soon got very busy after they returned. Apparently, Mama was discovered while the family was on vacation and Grandmama found us. Uprooted once again, Elizabeth and I were sent to a finishing school to fix the problems we'd gotten by living in poverty, and life, well, what one could call life, resumed. The rest…you know."

"What was his name, Anne? Give me his name."

"Erik, as much as I appreciate the fact that you wish to protect me, I will not give you his name. What's done is done and it cannot be undone."

"So, you're content with just letting him get away with it?" Erik forced me to look into his eyes, and I could not look away.

"Of course not. But it won't do me or you, for that matter, any good in hunting him down and harming him in some serious way."

"But he..."

"There's no need to remind me what he did to me, Erik. I know perfectly well."

"But you're willing to let him live?"

"Do you think this is easy for me?" I looked away from him, fighting between anger and pain. "Do you think that I don't want him to suffer for what he did to me, and in all likelihood, other girls?"

"So, what's stopping you?"

"The fact that revenge or vengeance serves no greater purpose."

"What about justice?"

I looked back at him and smiled, jokingly. "I have a feeling that _your_ idea of justice and _mine_ vary greatly."

"Well, if it gets the job done…"

I laughed at his tone. I was surprised to find myself laughing at all given the circumstances. "In all seriousness…"

"I'm sorry for what happened to you," Erik replied stopping me in mid sentence. He pressed me to him and I rested my head on his chest. My arms encircled him and for a moment we stayed that way. "It should never have happened."

"But it did, and now I have to come to terms with it."

"Sounds like you have. You can talk so calmly about it."

I shook my head. "The walls I've built to keep everything in place make a very pretty mask. But I have no other secrets, Erik."

"Thank you for telling me."

"You needed to know." I looked up at him and cradled his face with my hands. "I couldn't very well keep this from you, now that I remember, and considering the fact that…"

"Anne?"

I was stopped again in midsentence from telling Erik something very important by Aunt Giry's voice. Erik released me, and I immediately missed the warmth. He left the room going to go see my Aunt and I was left standing in the empty room. I moved to the window where I could see Erik in a deep conversation with her, and I guessed that he was trying to get the information out of her as to who the music teacher was. I smiled when it became very obvious that she had no intention of telling him. He stalked away, clearly angry, and she came inside.

"Well, Anne, I'm quite surprised to find you up and about. You had quite an episode last night."

I shivered and wrapped my arms around me. "I try not to think about it, and put it out of my mind as often as I can. It's been easy until you brought it up."

"One day you'll have to go to the chapel and exorcise the memory from your mind." She came up and wrapped her arms around me. "Oh, Anne, I was so scared yesterday. Seeing you like that…if we had come only a minute later…"

"Please, it doesn't do me or anyone else any good to dwell on those events. But I do wish I'd been a little wiser and realize that Erik never would have left me any sort of note like that."

"Do _not_ blame yourself, Anastasia." She lifted my head so that I could look into her eyes. "None of this is your fault."

"Perhaps. But regardless, I should probably get back. I'm sure Meg is worried about me."

Aunt Giry looked hesitant. "Anne…I'm afraid you can't come back…at least, not yet."

"Why not?"

"Well, last night…do you remember what happened to Faucher?"

I shook my head. "No…I don't."

"Erik…well…he…Faucher is dead, Anne."

I felt my heart drop. "Erik…killed him?"

Aunt continued as if I hadn't even spoken. "And we couldn't take you back to your room, because we feared that you would wake up hysterical and then we'd have to explain it to Meg and it was going to be a great big hassle that we didn't want to deal with, so we brought you here to recover. Though some people in the Populaire think that the two of you ran off together, I have been able to convince the managers, with some well forged papers, that you've been asked to visit a friend in England, and a notice was written stating that Faucher has quit."

"So…what does this mean for me?"

"It means you're going to have to stay here for a month and not go up to the surface. We have to make everyone believe that you're visiting a friend in England so we have to account for travel time, and visiting time. I'm sorry, Anne, but this was the best course of action."

"So…I'm here for a month."

"That isn't going to be a problem, is it?"

I whirled around to face Erik standing in the doorway listening to our conversation.

"I told you to wait outside, Erik," Aunt Giry bit out.

"Curiosity is one of my many sins," he replied.

"It's alright, Aunt. I don't have a problem staying here. I assume that's why my trunk was brought down?"

"Yes. Erik acted very quickly to make sure nothing seemed out of the ordinary." It was rare, and I was astonished to find that I'd caught it, but I saw the glimpse of a smile pass across my Aunt's face. She seemed pleased….almost, proud, of what Erik had done. "Well, if you're sure that you'll be alright, Anne…"

"Yes, I'll be fine. But, could you please send my kindest regards to Christine? She probably wants to talk about last night's events since everything went so well."

"Of course, Anne." She kissed my cheek and took my hands. "I'll come back in a day or two to check on you."

"To make sure she's still alive, you mean."

I laughed. "I'll be fine. Thank you Aunt Giry." I watched her leave, and once she had passed through the door and made her way back up to the Populaire, I noticed that Erik and I hadn't moved from where we stood. We simply stared at each other for a few minutes, neither of saying anything. Then, abruptly, he turned and left me in the room. I made my way to my room and sat down on the bedside. It had been an exhausting morning and I felt strangely tired again. Thinking a good nap was in order, I laid down, grateful that sleep came quickly.


	40. A Friend Indeed

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne, however, she's mine...well, she resides in my head until her story is done.**

**AN: When you get done reading...please don't kill me. M'kay?**

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Chapter 40

Erik, at times, could accept the simplicity and stupidity of the world. At times, he acknowledged and praised the blind acceptance of some of the supposedly most intelligent minds. He could pass over the world's mind of fashion and gossip to truth that stared at them in the face. This time, however, it was all Erik could do not to throttle someone. Understanding as he tried to be about Anne not revealing the name of her attacker, he could not in good faith allow the rumors of the Opera Populaire to continue. The rumor mills had been flooded with gossip and lies about his precious Anne running off with Faucher, and to have Anne living in his house for a month, was only going to strengthen those rumors. When she did return, she would undoubtedly be ridiculed and censored by everyone. After everything she had been through, she did not deserve that. She deserved kindness and gentleness. She deserved far more than he could give.

The thought struck him cold, and he leaned against the wall, her words ringing in his ears.

"_You've been a really good friend to me_."

He felt like punching a wall when she had uttered those words and in a flash, he saw everything that he had ever hoped for fall away again. Happiness had been dangled in front of him like food is temptingly held out to a starving man, and then it was all stripped away before he could even touch it. Part of him wished that she had never come into his life, but then the thought was quickly silenced as he realized how happy she _had_ made him, even though it had just been for a short while.

Wanting to see her, he made his way out of his music room to her room. He had checked on her briefly, and found her asleep. Quietly opening the door, he saw her just as he did earlier during the day. She was peacefully sleeping, nightmares a far away thought. He was struck once more by how beautiful she was and how much he had truly come to care for her and to love her. She had been a light in his darkness, the warmth to thaw his cold heart, and an Angel unlike any he had ever seen. And that was why he had to let her go. He had tried once before to keep a woman against her will, and that had had disastrous results. He couldn't keep her, and he knew that she would be miserable if she stayed. He was resolved, therefore, to keep his distance during the month she was to stay here. He would take whatever glimpse of heaven that would be granted unto him, but that was it. Nothing more…there could never be anything more.

He pulled a chair up to Anne's bedside and sat there, simply watching her sleep. Her black hair was spread across the pillows, her long lashed curled against her cheeks, and her lips had a small smile pulling at the corners. He speculated for a moment on what pleasant things she could be dreaming of when her lips parted and a single whispered word was heard.

"Erik…"

It took him a moment to realize that she had actually said his name, and when the pieces fell into place he couldn't help the tears that sprang to his eyes. He had to get out of the room before he did something foolish and wake her. He stood up, slowly, but it was too late. Erik could see that she was waking up, and when she looked up at him, he couldn't leave.

"Erik?" Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes…I was just coming to check on you."

"What time is it? Have I slept too long?" She sat up quickly and he put his hands on her arms.

"Anne, it's alright. You've only slept a couple of hours."

"Only a couple of hours?" She pulled back the covers and got out of bed. "There are things to do. I have things that need to be done."

"Anne, what could you possibly have to do? You're here…in my home…for a month." He smiled at her, and he saw the realization dawn on her face.

"You…you're right. I suppose there really isn't much to do. But…regardless, I shouldn't spend all my time sleeping." She walked passed him and walked out the door. It wasn't until he heard sounds coming from the kitchen that he followed her. However, he was halfway there when he remembered that he was going to try to keep his distance from her. Instead of joining her, he made a detour to his own room, and shut the door behind him. He had to make her realize that he was no good for her, and that she had to return to the world she knew when the month was over. This was the best course of action. Wasn't it?

* * *

Something was definitely wrong. I couldn't place my finger on it, but something was not adding up. I had been in Erik's home for nearly a week and he was being distant with me. It was so contrary to the closeness that I thought we were beginning to share and the kiss we almost had at the de Chagny ball. I had thought, now that I was here with him, whatever we felt towards each other would only grow stronger, but I was mistaken. We had a lesson together which had only proven difficult as Erik seemed agitated with me, and I, having no idea what was wrong with him, was equally annoyed.

I looked down at the tomatoes I was chopping for lunch. They had been diced perfectly, just as Cook had taught me. I smiled, wondering what had become of her and the few friends I had made in England. It seemed quite ironic that I was supposed to be visiting friends in England when, in truth, I had none back there. I had more friends here in Paris than I did back home and it made me feel the ever more importance that this was where I was supposed to be. Even here in Erik's home could be considered the place that I was supposed to be.

"Something smells good in here."

I smiled and turned to Erik, who was standing in the doorway. I was surprised that he had dropped by considering during this time of day he was preoccupied with his composing. Not wanting to run him off, I pointed with the knife to the pot hanging over the fire. "Take a peak, but be careful. It's hot." I turned back to the tomatoes which I scooped up and placed into the bowl that had the other vegetables for a salad. I reached for a celery stalk and chopped away.

"It looks good."

"I hope it tastes good. I've not made it in a while."

"Something from before?"

I nodded. "Yes. It was one of my favorite soups that would be made on a very rare occasion."

"Really? Any particular reason?"

I smiled. "No. It just took a lot of effort on making sure the meat was done."

"You have been in here for a few hours."

"Well, give me another thirty minutes and I'll be done."

"There's no rush, Anna."

I jumped when I heard his voice so close to my ear. It caused the knife to slip from my hand and graze my left finger. "Ouch!" I yelped and grabbed the nearest towel. Erik took the towel from my hand and tore of a piece then wrapped up my finger.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be! You walk so silently I didn't know you were so close."

"You're always getting hurt."

"Well, anything in relation to Faucher does not count. You had no control over that."

"But if I…"

"If _you_?" I laughed. "Silly Erik. You mustn't blame yourself. It wasn't your fault anymore than it was mine. Stop blaming yourself and help me find a bandage for my finger or lunch will never get done."

"Oh, yes…right." He hurriedly left the kitchen and I waited patiently. I ran my finger under the water, wincing when I felt the warm water hit the cut. When I heard his hurried footsteps returning I looked back to the doorway surprised to find him with an armful of things. "I'm not dying, Erik."

Paying no heed to my comment, he took my hand away from the water, turned off the faucet and then scrutinized the injured digit. "Here, let me see."

I laughed at him as he examined my injury as if it was a life threatening thing. He applied some sort of ointment to my finger that smelt like spices from a distant land.

"To prevent scarring," he whispered, answering my unspoken question. He then wrapped a bandage around my finger and was done.

"Thank you," I replied, recognizing his kindness for what it was. I looked up at him and found him to be very close, almost as close as he had been the night of the Masque Ball. "Erik…there's nothing to be concerned over. I'm going to be alright."

"Why can't you see that being here with me means that you are anything _but_ alright."

I frowned. "It wasn't as if I had a choice in the matter." I had spoken hastily, and it had hurt him. He turned to walk away but I caught his arm. "That came out wrong, Erik. I'm sorry. I don't want you to think that I'm here against my will…"

"But aren't you?" He looked back at me, anger in his eyes.

"Yes, but I don't want you to think that I'm unhappy being here. Aside from the fact that you've been quite distant over the past week, I've enjoyed my time here. I can read, and play to my heart's content and…"

"But surely that's not all that you need to make you happy. You require more than just this gloomy lair."

"Your home is far from gloomy. It's a beautiful sanctuary for you and holds everything that is important to you."

The look in his eyes changed. Anger no longer hardened them. His brown eyes softened to reveal tenderness, and caring, and…something more…something deeper. He reached out and cupped my face with his right hand. He caressed my cheek, his thumb grazing my lips, before running his fingers through my hair and then returning his hand to his side.

"Yes, Anna. Everything important to me is here. Everything I care about is here."

I felt my throat go dry, and my heart quickened. I had no response.

"Anne, would care to join me later after dinner?"

I was confused. "But we are always together."

"There's something special that I'd like to show you. It's a sort of present."

"Of course. I'd love to."

He smiled at me, and I felt my heart melt. "You'll need to dress for travel."

"We're leaving the Opera House?"

"Sort of."

He said nothing else, but smiled and walked away leaving me to finish lunch and to wonder what he had in store for me.

* * *

Erik paced around his study, his thoughts in a complete wreck. He should have nothing more to do with her, but the past week had been nothing but torment. He tried to stay away from her but he couldn't put himself through that kind of agony any longer. He had watched her carefully…closely. After she had come clean about her past, he was amazed at the change in her. She seemed lighthearted and carefree. She wasn't burdened with her secrets. She even did something that she was quite sure she had no idea she was doing.

She was singing. Well, he would catch her humming a tune or singing a few phrases from the chorus of _Romeo and Juliette_, but that would be it. And for him, that was enough. She had a beautiful voice that he could tell had once been trained and she instinctively remembered that training. Her voice had quite a full sound that was perfect for Bizet's _Carmen_, and other mezzo-soprano roles, but he could tell that she had a higher register that was just waiting to be released.

Tonight, he would tell her. Tonight everything would change. This was the night that writers only dreamed of. This was the night that only dreams were made of.


	41. Beneath a Moonlit Sky

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne, however, she's mine...well, she resides in my head until her story is done.**

**AN: This is my "Merry Christmas" "Happy Hanukkah" "Happy Kwanaza" "Happy Holidays" for you all! I'll be taking a break after this. I'll be back hopefully before 2013!**

* * *

Chapter 41

Leaving the Opera House, even for a short time, was something I was excited about. I would never have admitted this to Erik, but I longed to see a glimpse of sunlight or breathe a small breath of fresh air. I loved the Populaire, and the people in it, but everyone needed a change of scenery even if just to escape the humdrum of normality. I tried not to appear overly excited about going…wherever it was Erik was taking me, but I couldn't stop myself from dressing quickly and making a rapid attempt at fixing my hair. When I looked in the mirror for a final consultation I laughed. I had missed a few loop holes for the laces and my hair was fixed in a lopsided manner. I looked like something out of a circus.

"_If you make a half attempt at anything, you'll always have to redo it._" Mama's words echoed in my ears and I began to redo my appearance. I fixed all the laces, even untangling a few knots since I had been in such a hurry. I was wearing one of my older dresses that had managed not to get soiled by my comings and goings in the Populaire. It was a dark burgundy dresses that had a dark copper trim. This dress was one of my favorites as it didn't have any of the extra frills and it had been made just before the change in fashion. As I took the pins out of my hair and detangled it, I remembered how it felt earlier when Erik had placed his hand on my cheek and then ran his fingers through my hair. Goosebumps immediately dotted my skin and I decided to not even bother putting my hair up. I clasped the locket around my neck and was satisfied with my apperance.

As I left the bathroom, I looked on my nightstand and saw a beautiful bouquet of white roses sitting in an ornate vase. Unblemished and very fine, I touched the delicate blossoms and inhaled their fragrant scent. I looked on the table and saw a small card resting against the vase. I sat on my bed and pulled the card out of the envelope.

_For all that you have done._

_ Erik_

There was nothing poetic or romantic about his card, but it was his way of thanking me for whatever it was that I had done for him. I smiled and ran my fingers over his beautiful handwriting. It was elegant and proficient as if he had been taught by some great scholar. I pulled out Mama's box from the secret compartment of the chest and placed the card inside. I sat in the floor with the opened jewelry box in my lap looking over all of its contents. I had been astonished, as had Jane, at what was inside. There was a ruby necklace with a matching pair of earrings, and an emerald ring. A thin diamond bracelet was also laid on top of the dark fabric. All of the jewelry was flawless and of the highest quality. I was puzzled and confused as to how, and why, these things had been in my mother's possession. These things could have made us plenty of money and we would not have been subjected to the misery of those four years. I shuddered as I thought of what would not have happened if we had not been forced to live as we did.

Pushing the unpleasantness aside, I sat the card in the box and returned the box to the chest. As I stood up, I smoothed out any wrinkles in my dress and made my way out of the room and out towards the lake. Erik was standing there next to the gondulet, looking as every bit as dashing and handsome as the most well titled man in society. He wore a crisp black suit with matching cloak and it was only his white mask that stood out. I couldn't help but smile at him as he had come to mean so much to me over the time we'd known each other. All that we had both been through both apart and together made me realize all the more how much I truly loved him. It was more than the doe-eyed romantic love that so many people fell in to. But a strong true love that would survive anything, including when Erik decided to take off his mask and show me what was underneath.

"I've heard that women take a long time getting ready. You're certainly no exception."

I chuckled at his teasing comment and stepped in to the boat. "Well, when you want to impress someone, you tend to take a little longer." I looked back at him, seeing him staring at me as if I'd just taken leave of my senses. Perhaps it had been a little forward, but I had grown tired of this cat and mouse game. He'd come close to kissing me…twice! He either was going to have to, or I would take care of this myself.

"Are you coming?" I asked. "Or am I going to have to row this myself?"

A devilish grin flashed across his face before he stepped into the boat. I steadied myself as he picked up the pole and pushed our way along the lake to the other side. The rocking of the gondulet was soothing and peaceful.

"So you said we're sort of going out of the Opera House. Where are we going exactly?"

"The roof."

I turned to face him. "What's up at the roof?"

"It's a surprise."

"I think that's probably the one place in the Populaire that I've not been."

"It's just the roof."

"To you maybe," I smiled. Nothing more was said between us as he docked the boat and turned to assist me. The feeling of his hands encircle my waist made my cheeks flush and I was grateful for the dim light. Even after he took one of my hands and guided me up to the roof, I could still feel his hands on my waist. Silently, I followed him up from the underground lair to the main levels. A few times he turned around to ask if I needed to rest, but I simply smiled and told him that I was fine.

"Higher," he whispered, even when I thought we were nearly there. "Higher still."

I picked up my skirts and matched his steps, trying not to trip over fallen props, thrown aside costumes, and then the stairs. I had never seen so many stairs and I thought counting them would make them go by faster, but after a while I lost count. I gripped his hand as we side-stepped a few wayward people, more engrossed in their partner than us walking by.

"Here we are," he whispered, standing before a closed door. "Ready?"

"I'm not afraid of heights," I laughed at him.

He opened the door and we stepped out into the cool evening air. The sun had not quite set but the East had darkened. From up here, we could see all of Paris. Lights were slowly coming on in the Parisian flats, and the streets were being lit. Erik pulled me towards the sculptures of angels that decorated the barrier that separated me from the street below.

"It's beautiful."

"Is there anything dark in this world that you _don't_ think is beautiful?" He asked me promptly.

I looked out at the city and smiled. "Yes, Erik. There are things and people in this world who I do not think are beautiful." I leaned against him, my back pressed against his chest. "You don't have to concern yourself about being in that category."

"What made you think that?"

I chuckled. "Just a feeling, I guess. You hide away from all the world, so you obviously think you are not beautiful." I looked up at him. "I, however, think you're devilishly handsome."

"Don't lie to me, Anne."

I turned around and cupped his face with my hands. "I'm not lying, Erik. You have a truly beautiful soul, and a good heart."

"Others would…"

"I'm not talking about other people. And if you value their opinion more than I, then I'll stop right there." I stepped away and was going to walk past him but he grabbed my hand.

"Anne, wait. That's not what I meant."

"You still don't trust me." It wasn't a question. Just a simple state of fact.

"You don't know what you ask of me." He dropped my hand and averted his eyes, knowing we had reached that unpleasant topic of his face.

"I'm not asking you anything," I replied. I stepped up to him and made him look at me. "Your face is just as beautiful as your soul and those who can't see that, aren't probably the best judges of character."

"You've not seen it."

I felt my temper rise. "I'm _not_ Christine, as you so often remind me. I am not going to treat you any differently if and when I see your face. If anything, it'll be only compassion for the life you've known because of the cruelty of the world."

"I don't deserve…"

"No one really deserves anything in this life, Erik. We all make mistakes and judgments and no one is perfect, no matter how hard you try to make them so. We give what we can give, and take what little we deserve. That's how the world works."

"Do you really want to see it?"

I crossed my arms. "I'm not going to take off your mask, Erik. It is by your own hand."

I could see him struggling with himself, as if weighing the pros and cons of whatever decision he would make. And then he sighed and his hands reached up to take away his mask. I held my breath, fearing the unknown. Whatever happened in this moment, would define everything from here on. Erik was placing his full trust in me. Whatever gross imaginings had crossed my mind, it wasn't what I saw. I had expected…well, something entirely transfigured that you couldn't even tell it was a face, if rumors were to be believed.

"Like yellow parchment is his skin."

"A great black hole serves as the nose that never grew!"

"He is like Death walking about!"

None of those were accurate. I gasped when I saw what he had been hiding, and it looked as if he had been burned and it never had a chance to heel. In the fading twilight, I saw the reddened skin that had bumps and ridges that were probably from the contours of his mask. It was dry and flaking, probably from the skin's inability to breathe. The "deformity" ran from the middle of his forehead to almost all the way down the right of his face. His eyes were closed, so he couldn't see my reaction, but I could plainly see the pain and fear written across his face. Would I accept him as he was, nothing more than a man?

I held his face in my hands, my left thumb lightly running over this scarred face. Apparently, the sensitive touch shocked him and his eyes flew open. I didn't give him any time to speak or to react as I wrapped my arms around him and kissed his lips. Everything happened so quickly then. I could feel his body stiffen as if trying to break away from me, but his hands soon encircled my waist as he had done earlier in our evening. I could feel his tears on my face, and when I broke away I dried them with my fingertips.

"It's alright, Erik."

"How can you…"

I placed my fingers over his lips. "I love you, Erik." I could see I had stunned him with my words. "I know it's not proper for a woman to declare her feelings before a man does, but I can't keep silent anymore. I love you more than I ever believed humanly possible."

I watched him place his mask back on his face and the change in him was astounding. I would never have called Erik weak, but he seemed to be stronger and more confident with his mask on. He held me close to him and searched my eyes, obviously trying to decide whether or not I was telling the truth.

"You can't mean it…"

"Is that your way of telling me that you don't love me?" I asked, pulling away from him.

He grabbed my arm and pulled me back. "I've waited too long for you, Anna. You're not getting away from me now." He held my face tenderly in his hands. "I love you so very much, Anna, like I no longer believed I could."

My heart warmed at his words, and when he leaned in to kiss me, I felt as if everything in the world had righted itself. I was perfectly happy and content here in the arms of the man I loved the most. We stood there in the evening holding each other as the sun finally set, and the dark sky hovered over us.

"This is the reason why I wanted you to come up here," Erik whispered in my ear. I tried not to shiver as his breath tickled my skin.

"You could have held me like this in your home, Erik."

"Not this, Anna." He pointed out towards the sky. "There is the reason."

I looked up at the sky, trying to figure out what it was he was trying to show me. Then it hit me. "The stars," I whispered. I hadn't seen a starlit sky such as this in years. Even while I was on the boat coming here, I hadn't taken the time to walk the decks at night. "It's beautiful, Erik."

"I know that you've missed them. Did you do any stargazing while you lived in the country?"

I shook my head. "Sadly, no. Papa tried, but I could never sit still long enough and by the time there were enough stars in the sky to do anything, I was too tired."

"Shall we begin your lesson now, then?"

I laughed. As long as he held on to me, I didn't care what we did. For the rest of the evening, Erik and I stayed close in each other's arms, watching the stars, watching the people that walked the streets, and enjoying the company of each other.


	42. Till I Hear You Sing

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne, however, she's mine...well, she resides in my head until her story is done.**

**AN: I'M BACK! Sorry it's taken so long! I had major writer's block and I hope this chapter doesn't show it. The song used in here is entitled "Slumber My Darling." And if you want to hear what it sounds like, just look up "Slumber My Darling Allison Krauss Yo Yo Ma" and you'll find it. I left this chapter with just enough of a cliff hanger to make you come back and to make me keep writing! Loves! **

* * *

Chapter 42

Erik closely watched the corridors as he guided Anne back down to his home. Both of them had lost track of time and the sun had slowly started to rise when either of them made a move to let go. He, for some time, couldn't quite comprehend the feeling of Anne in his arms and knowing that she loved him…ugliness and all, she truly loved him. That she bore her feelings first was proof of how strong they were because she didn't have to follow him in reply. She was happy and satisfied with him and that made him feel as close to happiness as he had ever felt. What he had felt for Christine was nothing in comparison to this treasure that followed him so willingly, and without fear.

The Populaire was slowly waking up. Those who were responsible for cleaning and maintenance were already up and moving around. He had to be careful. Anyone seeing Anne would instantly know that she was not in England like she was supposed to be. He smiled to himself as he finally reached the dark safety of the tunnels which would lead them to his home. He had thought of Anne's safety and not his own, which was a new experience for him. He used to always be so cautious to make sure that no one saw _him_ and now he was focused on Anne. Surely that was a sign that he truly did love her and this wasn't some passing fancy.

"Erik?" Her soft voice came from behind him and he helped her into the gondulet. "You've been quiet since we left the roof. You're not regretting anything are you?" She looked up at him from her seated position and he leaned down to kiss her.

"Never," he whispered, his lips just barely caressing hers. "I needed to make sure that you got back here safely, without anyone seeing you. You're supposed to be in England, remember?"

Her eyes dawned in recognition. "Oh…that's right."

"I think we when we get back, you should rest. We were out all night."

"But I'm not tired."

He gave her a pointed look as he reached for the pole. "I remember hearing that before."

She laughed and drew her knees up underneath her chin. "Alright. I'll go sleep. But I should fix you something to eat."

"I managed very well, somehow, without you for most of my life. I can survive a few hours while you sleep."

He didn't turn back to see her, but he did hear a soft chuckle. Reaching the other side, he turned to help her out, being very careful not to let his hands linger on her waist for too long. Her rest and health came before any desire to kiss her lips, and hold her forever.

"Good night," he whispered, kissing her forehead.

"It's more like 'good morning,' Erik. We stayed out all night." She kissed him and then made her way into the house and to bed.

Erik was left on the shore of the lake, pondering over the events of the previous nights. He felt as if he could write an entire opera in the next few hours. The first thing he would have to do, is finish _Love Never Dies_ so that she might one day sing it…if she chose to. Now knowing why she refused to sing, he wouldn't force anything on her, but she did sing when she wasn't paying any attention and when she thought no one was looking.

Eventually, when he was sure that she had to be settled, he made his own way inside. The walls had been thickly built so that sound from his music room wouldn't carry to her room. He sat at his piano, the rough draft spread across the stand. He picked up his pen and began to write out melodies and words that didn't require him to play anything because everything played out like a beautiful symphony in his head. Everything was beautiful. Everything was perfect. Just like her.

* * *

I awoke feeling refreshed and well rested. However, I knew that I was going to be hard pressed to retire early tonight and to regain my sleeping schedule. A glance at the clock told me it was three in the afternoon. I stretched lazily and then suddenly sat up, a fear running through me. Had it all been a dream? Had I just imagined it all? I threw the covers off and ran out of my room trying to find Erik. He was just where I knew he would be, sitting at the piano pouring over his sheet music and scribbling away with a pen. For a moment I just stood there, staring at him, loving him all the more. He was truly a beautiful man both inside and out.

"Are you going to stand there much longer, Anne?"

I straightened instantly. "I'm sorry." The apology fell quickly from my lips. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

He stood up abruptly and walked over to me. At first, his expression seemed grim and harsh but when he stood over me, I could see the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You shouldn't tease me like that Erik." I was trying to be just as serious as he was but was failing just as miserably.

"You slept most of the day away, my dear." He pressed a kiss to my lips and I instantly relaxed. It hadn't been a dream after all.

"You kept me out all night," I teased. He put his arms around my waist and I was very tempted to stay there all day, but I would not allow myself to live in a state of fantasy and overly indulged devotion. I stepped out of his embrace and made my way to his piano. "What have you been working on?"

I got to the piano before he did and saw that he had indeed been working on something.

"It's nothing, Anne." He walked over and made an attempt to hide his music from me.

"Your music is not 'nothing' Erik." I let him take the manuscript but I held my hands out. "May I please see it?"

I could tell that he was deliberating with himself but he finally acquiesced. I smiled at him as I opened up the first page and sat down at the piano. The words were beautiful and I played the melody as I whispered the words.

"_Who knows when love begins? Who knows what makes it start? One day it's simply there alive inside your heart. It slips into your thoughts. It infiltrates your soul. It takes you by surprise, then seizes full control. Try to deny it and try to protest. But love won't let you go, once you've been possessed…_"

There wasn't anything else written yet. Words and phrases had been scribbled to the side as if he had made mental note of lyrics for later. But it was truly beautiful, even in its partially completed form.

"Erik…it's marvelous."

"You didn't sing it."

I looked up at him and smiled. "Force of habit. Perhaps one day I will."

"Would you like to try now?"

I stilled. "It's been a long time. I don't know how I would sound."

"At least you're not worried about the reoccurring memories." He took my hand in his and squeezed it gently. "There's only one way to find out, Anna."

I smiled and shook my head. I really shouldn't allow him to call me Anna as it did things to my heart that should not be legal. "I guess so. But the only thing I know off the top of my head is the lullaby Mama used to sing."

"I can follow along." He sat next to me on the piano bench and I scooted over, entirely too aware of our closeness. "What key is it in?"

I chewed on my lips. I ran my fingers across the keys and played a few chords before deciding. "It's in three four, key of E major."

"Do you want to play a little so I can have an idea?"

I smiled, seeing his question for what it was. He was trying to get me comfortable by playing at the piano and then my singing would just naturally take over. I hoped he was right. I played a little introduction marveling at how his hands soon took over. The words fell from my lips like long lost memories and I felt the warm embrace of my departed mother.

"_Slumber, my darling, thy mother is near,_

_Guarding thy dreams from all terror and fear,_

_Sunlight has pass'd and the twilight has gone,_

_Slumber, my darling, the night's coming on._

_Sweet visions attend thy sleep,_

_Fondest, dearest to me,_

_While others their revels keep,_

_I will watch over thee. _

_Slumber, my darling, the birds are at rest,_

_The wandering dews by the flow'rs are caressed,_

_Slumber, my darling, I'll wrap thee up warm,_

_And pray that the angels will shield thee from harm. _

_Slumber, my darling, till morn's blushing ray_

_Brings to the world the glad tidings of day;_

_Fill the dark void with thy dreamy delight—_

_Slumber, thy mother will guard thee tonight,_

_Thy pillow shall sacred be_

_From all outward alarms;_

_Thou, thou are the world to me_

_In thine innocent charms. _

_Slumber, my darling, the birds are at rest,_

_The wandering dews by the flow'rs are caressed,_

_Slumber, my darling, I'll wrap thee up warm,_

_And pray that the angels will shield thee from harm._"

It was beautiful, the two of using creating music together. I was surprised to have made it through without any hiccups and I felt a strange sense of peace as Erik sat next to me, playing as if he'd played this piece all of his life. When he finally lifted his fingers from the keys we sat there for a moment, as if trying to hold on to the magic that had surrounded us for just a short period of time. He turned to me, but I didn't want to face him. He was a teacher, a master of the arts and I did not want him to say something to me that would only make me feel insecure in my singing. I told him that it was bad. I told him I hadn't sung in years.

"Look at me, Anne."

I slowly turned my face to his, very hesitant to meet his eyes. When I did, I saw love and devotion and a passion that I had not quite expected to see there. "I'm sorry it was so awful. I haven't done this in years and it was probably too high and there were so many things that went wrong and…"

He placed his hands over my lips and I stopped talking. "It is apparent that you've not practiced in a while, Anne, but it is truly a most heavenly sound when you sing."

At first I wanted to shake off his compliment with some sort of "you say that to all the girls" thing but knew that would not be the best course of action. I simply smiled and nodded my head. "Thank you, Erik. I suppose you want to be my teacher and in a few short months I could be on the Populaire stage?"

"If that's what you want, but I have a strange feeling it isn't."

I fell in love with him all over again as he said that and I wrapped my arms around him. "I suppose it wouldn't be so bad to learn to sing again. Just have a little mercy on me, Erik." I teased and kissed his cheek. We probably would have stayed that way for sometime had we not heard a commotion outside. The front door burst open and before either of us could move Aunt Giry had come running into the room. She looked between a mix of fury and anxiety.

"Erik, something dreadful is going on! Anne, that sister of yours is back and she's threatening to tear down the Populaire!"


	43. The Plan

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne, however, she's mine...well, she resides in my head until her story is done.**

**AN: Did I mention that writer's block is the devil? UGH! **

* * *

Chapter 43

The statement of "going to tear down the Populaire" could have been taken several ways. Erik's first thought was for Anne's safety. She was down here on a lie so he immediately believed that it was discovered that she was not in England visiting a friend, or kidnapped and being held by the Opera Ghost against her will. He wrapped an arm protectively around Anne's waist and held her close. Having just found the one person who made him feel as if he no longer a monster in someone's wildest nightmare, he was disinclined to let her return to the world above.

Fortunately, as Madame Giry continued her explanation of what was going on in the Manager's office, this was not the case. Anne was safe here for the time being, but the same could not be said of the cast and crew of the Opera House.

"She's come in fresh off her honeymoon and is completely determined to tear down the Populaire and make it some sort of hotel with cheap entertainment. It's absolutely horrid!"

"She's can't do that!" Anne yelled. She looked up at him and he was lost in her clear blue eyes. "Can she?"

"Her husband is the patron, Anne. It's apparent she's got him wrapped around her tiny finger and she could do whatever she wants to do with this place."

"But surely he's not the _only_ patron, Aunt."

Erik shook his head. "No, there is someone who has put more funding into this place than they do."

Anne's brow furrowed. "Who?"

Erik smiled. "Me."

"Erik you can't be serious?!" Madame Giry put her hands on her hips. "You'd have to show your face in order to make something like that stick."

He shook his head, thinking himself very clever for putting all of this together before he'd found someone to run the Populaire. "Not necessarily. I have someone who handles my affairs."

"Is he someone who can be trusted?" It was hard to read whether or not Antoinette was relieved or worried with Erik's announcement.

"Oh, he's someone who can definitely be trusted. He's always had some sort of fascination with my affairs regardless of what they were."

* * *

It hadn't taken long to put together a brief note and have it delivered to _his_ place of residence. Erik sat calmly in his chair while Anne was busying herself with…well, keeping busy. She'd made a late lunch, which she'd only partially eaten, cleaned the kitchen, and then rolled up her sleeves to straighten up the rest of his house.

"How can you just sit there, Erik?" She'd asked for the hundredth time, her anxiety getting higher and higher each time she'd posed the question. "Elizabeth is threatening to tear down your home!"

"Technically my home is beneath the Populaire, but I see your point," he teased.

"Ugh!" She went about her work, her exasperation very obvious.

With a brief glance at the clock, Erik saw that he had a few minutes before his visitor was scheduled to arrive. Taking pity on Anne, he got up and followed her to her room where she was busying herself with taking out her belongings in the trunk and placing them in places around the room. She only had maybe three weeks left down here, as Antoinette was very adamant that they ruse of her visiting her sick friend remain intact, much to Anne's annoyance. It did strange things to his heart seeing her make this bedroom hers. Her dresses hung in the wardrobe, a jewelry box sat on the vanity as well as a brush, comb, and mirror set.

"Anne, do you trust me?" He leaned against the doorframe, crossed his arms across his chest, and watched her.

Her arms stilled after closing the doors to the wardrobe and he could hear her sigh. "You know I do, Erik, but I can't believe you'd just sit by and let the Opera House just fall."

He smiled and came up behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders, suddenly very glad that she'd worn her hair up. He ran his fingertips along the curve of her neck and placed a soft kiss just underneath her ear. He felt her shiver and he chuckled. "Trust me then, Anne, when I say that I'm not just sitting back and letting it all fall apart."

She turned to face him and he bent his head down to kiss her. "Do you believe me?"

"I…I'm not sure. I'm going to have to think about it."

He kissed her again. "And now?"

"A little…" She smiled before he kissed her again. "Alright, Erik, we have to stop this." She laughed and he was determined to do everything in his power to hear that laugh often. "When are we to expect this visitor anyway?"

He relaxed his arms and she stepped out of his embrace. "He should be here right about…" There was a knock at the door and he smiled. "Now."

* * *

I did not go immediately to meet this visitor of Erik's. I stayed in my room in a complete frenzy about what _should_ be done about Elizabeth. She was always a force few chose to reckon with, but I usually had been able to deal with her. I sat down on my bed trying to get my thoughts together. Whatever Erik was going to plan, I knew that I couldn't stay here with him for very much longer. There would be some speculation as to what had happened and why I had returned so soon, but there were stories and lies that were easy to tell. I flopped back onto the bed and sighed. As much as I had come to love Erik, I knew that I couldn't stay here forever. I would have to leave, and it might as well be now with Elizabeth being…well, Elizabeth. I couldn't stand by and let this place just fall though I knew Erik wouldn't give it up without using whatever means necessary.

I quickly sat up when I could hear the unmistakable sound of raised voices. Forgetting about the fact that I should have probably stayed in my room, I rushed out and ran to the music room and pushed open the doors. I shouldn't have been afraid, but it was an involuntary instinct, that was completely unwarranted. I saw Erik having a conversation with a man who was dressed to look like a gentleman of society but he wore a funny looking hat. They seemed to be in some sort of heated argument, and they both turned to me when I entered the room.

"I suppose _this_ is the woman, Erik?"

I did not like to be referred to as if I were just some _thing_ to be passed over. "I have a name, monsieur." I placed my hands on my hips and glared at him. "And I also do not take kindly to the fact that you come in to Erik's home and proceed to shout at him as if he's done something wrong." I could see a smile tugging at Erik's mouth but I was not to be deterred. "Now, would you kindly explain to me what all of that racket was about? Or shall you have to be forcibly removed from the premises?"

The man laughed now, and I was left quite confused. "She's got a bit more spirit than Christine, I'll give you that."

"I don't need to be reminded by anyone else that I'm not like Christine Daaé, thank you very much."

He instantly sobered, while Erik simply smiled and watched on. "Forgive me, Madame," the stranger said. "You'll have to forgive me, as the last time Erik brought someone down here it did not end well, for either party."

"Well, I was brought down here for my protection, but I've stayed of my own free will."

"I'm sure you did," he smiled. "But before we continue having this delightful banter as to your willingness, allow me to introduce myself." The man cleared his throat and swept into a very low bow. "My name is Nadir Khan. I am an old friend of Erik's, from Persia." He stepped forward and took one of my hands in his and lightly kissed it. "And you are Anastasia Hillcrest, daughter of Maria Hillcrest who was once Maria Giry if memory serves me."

"How did you know…?" I was not allowed to finish my question as Erik cleared his throat to interrupt me.

"Anne, if you'd be so kind as to come further in and hear what Nadir and I were planning. I think it may end up concerning you as well."

I nodded and situated myself on the piano bench, allowing the two men to sit in the chairs to face each other. I could see them have their conversation but was also far enough out of the way to not be that much attention to.

"You see, Anne, I get paid twenty thousand francs a month from the Managers and in return, I try not to allow any travesties to effect the opera."

I looked at Erik, my brow furrowed. "I'm assuming they've not paid considering all the damage that's been done?"

"Oh, no. The damage that has been caused, like the falling of the backdrop like on your first day, was meant to be a sort of warning for you." His eyes gleamed with mischief. "If you will remember you were in a place you weren't supposed to be when that happened."

I smiled and nodded.

"Well, to get back to the point, I obviously cannot spend that much money in a month and before this Populaire reopened, I entrusted all of my funds to Nadir who has become the largest supplying patron of the Opera House. He's just acting under my name. He's been sort of nameless and faceless, up until now."

I tilted my head and looked at M. Khan. "And what do you two intend to do now?"

"Well," the Persian cleared his throat and smiled. "We intend to take back the Populaire and to buy out your sister and her husband."

I laughed. "You obviously don't know my sister. She won't budge once she's made her mind up."

Erik's eyes twinkled with mischief. "And you obviously don't know how…persuasive…I can be."

I gasped. "You are not to harm my sister!"

"Such family feelings for a person who practically wants nothing to do with you."

I clenched my hands. "That isn't fair. Since Mama's death, she and my grandmother are the only two blood relations I have left."

"I'm sure your Aunt and Meg will find that most comforting," Erik clipped out.

I was hurt. He didn't have to make it sound like that. "I grew up with them."

"That woman beat you black and blue, Anastasia!"

I cringed. Erik had never used my full name, and I could tell he was visibly upset. Nadir cleared his throat and excused himself. I couldn't tell what he said…something about some fresh air. I sat there on the piano bench for what seemed like an eternity.

"Anne," he whispered. He stood up and walked over to me. When I didn't return his gaze, he knelt down in front of me forcing me to look at him. "This is my home, Anne. Well, this dungeons, yes, but the world above is as close to humanity as I may ever come, aside from your love of course." He gave me a half smile and I touched his face with my fingers.

"Erik…Elizabeth is a vengeful creature. You have never seen her equal. She's nothing compared to Carlotta or to the Vicomte. She's learned from Grandmama to find the weakness and to exploit it."

He smiled. "But you forget, she won't be directly dealing with me. Nadir is quite capable of taking care of himself. We'll buy back the Populaire, never sell part of it to anyone and this will continue to be a home to those who live and work here. That also includes you."

I blinked, realization dawning.

"I'm doing this for them as much as I'm doing this for you. I don't think I could bear to have you taken away now that I've found you."

His voice was soft but it made its way to my heart's core. This was for them and for me. He wanted to keep me close…safe…

"Aright, Erik," I acquiesced, not that he needed my permission. I was rewarded with a kiss and he soon left to go find Nadir. I was left in the music room, and I wrapped my arms around me, torn between my love for Erik and my fear of Elizabeth.


	44. The Choice and Confusion

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne, however, she's mine...well, she resides in my head until her story is done.**

**AN: I'M SO SORRY! I have not forgotten you all or this story! Life ( and writer's block ) have been a complete pain! **

* * *

Apparently, Elizabeth did not believe the lie that had been spread about that I had simply returned to England to visit a sick friend. Aunt Giry had come down on one occasion and had told me that Elizabeth knew for a fact that I had no friends back home and that I was either hiding in the Populaire and that she would find me, or I had run off with Faucher and in doing so had made myself all the more ruined.

"Anne, does she know your circumstances?" Aunt Giry asked, taking a sip of the tea I'd prepared. Erik and Nadir had wrapped themselves up in the music room again, continuing to go over their plan.

I shook my head. "No, I don't think so. Mother would never have repeated such a thing to anyone, and Elizabeth was too young when it happened to really remember or understand anything."

"She seems to make a lot of accusations in regards to your virtue."

"I have no virtue left to give, Aunt. At least, not the kind that would matter to a respectable gentleman."

"Erik is a respectable gentleman," she replied, her eyes twinkling.

I blushed and looked away.

"He's come to speak to me, you know."

I looked up and my eyes widened. "He did?"

"He told me how he felt about you and wants for me to understand that, though you've been down here unchaperoned, he's never done anything to tarnish your reputation."

"Aunt you have to realize that me staying here is completely pointless. I need to be up there, taking on Elizabeth because so few really know how she works. If she suspects that I'm hiding here, she'll tear the place apart with her own hands if she has to."

Aunt Giry sighed and leaned back in her chair. She looked very worried, but she could tell that I was right. "I'll talk to Erik."

"That will not be necessary. I'll talk to Erik. It's my decision."

"She's been spending a lot of time with Christine, just so you know. Elizabeth has told her the most atrocious lies."

"I'll deal with Christine in my own way, Aunt. Just as I'll deal with Elizabeth. However, before then, I have to talk with Erik."

"And what, pray tell, do you have to say to me?"

We turned in our seats to find Erik standing in the doorway, leaning against the door frame, arms folded, and looking at us as if he hadn't a care in the world.

"I'll take that as my cue to leave."

"Traitor," I murmured good-naturedly and Aunt Giry gave me a kiss and left.

"Now, what do you have to tell me?" Erik stepped forward and I marveled in the sheer strength that seemed to emanate from him. Coming from his meeting with Nadir, it appeared that he seemed confident in the plan that they had assembled. He sat down in the chair that my Aunt had vacated and gave me a smile. I took a shaky breath, hesitant to see that smile disappear with my next words.

"Erik, I need to return to the Populaire...within the few hours."

"Of course, Anne."

Whatever words I had planned to say after that died on my lips. "Excuse me?"

"I agree with you entirely." I stood up and walked towards me, resting against the table in front of me. "After thinking it over, I realized that it was wrong of me to keep you here. You should be at the Populaire. You had a life before you came down here and I think you should return to it."

"I...well...alright." I stood up and made a move to walk away. "I'll go pack my trunk." I was so confused at this sudden change in him. Why would he let me go so easily when he had been so adamant to keep me hidden and protected? I went to my room and began to pack, pouring over that question in my mind.

"So eager to leave?" He asked.

I whirled around and gasped. I hadn't realized that he had followed me. "You know that to be a lie, Erik," I replied after my heart had resumed a steady rhythm. "I'm just ready to not be so dependent on you, despite the fact that at times I like it."

"You don't like being protected, is what you mean." He came into my room and sat on the bed, curiosity etched into his expression.

"Well, that's true as well. I've been protected for quite some time, either by you or by family. I'm ready for a change. But," I sat down next to him and took his hands. "I promise you that I'm not returning just to leave you and never return."

"Oh, I have no doubt of that, Anne." He leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to my lips. "You belong to me now."

"Oh, no, sir. I don't belong to anyone." I playfully pushed him back and made a move to rise and start packing. He, however, was not going to have any of it. He took my wrist tenderly in his hand and pulled me back to him. The next thing I knew, I was lying on my back on top of my bed and Erik had managed to lay over top of me.

"Erik," I laughed. "Get off of me!" I playfully tried to push him away but he would not move.

"Hmm...I don't think so." Erik's hand trailed across my side and it was only when I let out a squeal of laughter did he stop. "Anne, you're ticklish?"

I bit my lower lip trying not to laugh. Refusing to give in to him, I did all I could when he launched an assault on my ticklish sides. "Erik!" I screamed, writhing underneath him trying to break free. "Get off of me!" I laughed and saw his own face a light with laughter.

Eventually he released me but he did not sit up. I was still trapped beneath him and I saw the change in his eyes. They became dark and I saw them alight with fire. I supposed myself to look a mess as the pins that held my hair had definitely come loose. He ran his fingers through my hair and I closed my eyes reveling in his touch. I felt his lips against the small hollow behind my ear and my breath hitched. His gentle touch and caress sent shivers down my spine.

"I love you, Anne."

I opened my eyes and looked into his eyes. "I love you too, Erik."

"Promise me you'll return."

The promise was ready on my lips but it stopped when I saw the tears form in his eyes. He suddenly sat up and turned away. He put his face in his hands and I saw his shoulders shake with his silent tears. I sat up and wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

"Do you really doubt I will return?"

"Part of me wants to believe, but I cannot allow myself to truly believe that you'll never really leave me. Such a glimpse of heaven...I do not deserve it."

"And what makes you think I deserve you?"

He gasped and looked at me as if questioning my sanity. "Why would you say such a thing?"

"Because it's true. I am just as flawed as you with my own dark past and belief that I am truly undeserving of anything so wonderful as the love you have for me." He started to contest my statement but I placed a hand over his lips. "Stop putting me on a pedestal, Erik. I don't belong there." I reached up around my neck and unclasped my mother's locket. "Here." I handed it to him. "If you want further testament that I will return, hold on to this." I tried to be calm about it, but his questioning my devotion cut like a knife.

"Anne..."

"Now, I don't want to hear another word on the subject, Erik." I got up up from the bed and began packing. Erik, soon realizing that I was adamant in not wanting to discuss that any further, soon left.


	45. He Loved You the Most by Letting You Go

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne, however, she's mine...well, she resides in my head until her story is done.**

**AN: I am glad that I am able to bring you another chapter so soon. I can say that the reason why I finished this chapter is because I've been _dying_ to have this argument between Anne and Christine ever since I started writing this! And now that it's here...YAY! Anne's point of view is the same as mine so it gives me a personal satisfaction to finally be able to put it to paper...or a word processor. lol Leave a review and feel the full breathless pull of the beauty underneath! **

* * *

"Oh, Ms. Anne, it's so good to have you back!"

I looked up from my seat and found Madame Carrolton standing over me. She was in her Juliette costume and she was wearing a beautiful smile on her face.

"Thank you, Madame. It's good to be back. I have missed this place." I gestured to the auditorium.

"And we have missed you as well." Her voice took on a more somber turn. "How is your friend, if you don't mind my asking."

"She died before I had reached England." The lie had fallen from my lips so easily that for a moment I was shocked and unable to continue.

"Poor dear. And you came right back?"

"Well, I paid my respects to her mother, of course."

"Oh, Annie, that's such a lie."

I turned in my seat to find Elizabeth standing arm in arm with Christine, glaring at me with contempt. Christine's expression was difficult to read. She appeared torn between staying on Anne's arm and rising to my defense.

"You have no friends in England. Everyone knows that."

"Your world must be so small, Elizabeth, if you believe that 'everyone' is just you and Grandmama." I rose from my seat and straightened my skirts. "I actually made some friends when we were shipped off to finishing school. You were too busy flirting with every male you could find to even notice anything else happening."

I stepped out into the aisle and stood next to Madame Carrolton.

"You've never talked about her."

"Why would I ever talk about her to you?" I crossed my arms and looked at her daring to continue this conversation. "Time and time again you have proven that we have as much in common as the grass does to the sky."

Elizabeth, thankfully, was at a loss for words, struggling to come up with some sort of retort. I was not going to give her such a pleasure.

"Now, if you will kindly excuse me, I have a word or two to say Monsieur Moreau. There's a oboist who is still too sharp." In truth, I had nothing of the sort to say to the conductor, but he did want to show me the score as well as some special alterations he had made.

"Will you be a regular spectator for our rehearsals now, mademoiselle?"

"Yes, I believe so."

He handed me the score. "Well, then, perhaps you could study the score so you could direct the orchestra."

My hands stilled as I reached for the music and I looked up at him in shock. It was clear in his expression that he was entirely serious in his request. "I...I don't know what to say. It's a huge honor...and responsibility."

Monsieur Moreau smiled at me, and I was a little wary with his expression. He seemed to know something I didn't...and he wasn't too interested in sharing. "I have no doubt, mademoiselle, that you will astound us all."

* * *

Erik watched from his usual seat in Box 5 the scene that had just played out below in front of the orchestra pit. A smile slowly spread across his face, but the mischievous glint was not far from his eyes. Anne was going to prove exceptional in this grand scheme of his. Soon, she would be asked to sing, and then everything would fall into place.

* * *

"I honestly expected it, Anne," Meg furiously ran a brush through her tangled blonde hair, her frustrated movements showing that she was not as calm as her words sounded. "I knew that you were living with the Phantom."

I took the brush from her hands and made her sit down on the bed. I sat behind her and began to gently run the brush through her hair, the same as she had done for me when we first began to share this room.

"I'm sorry that you had to be lied to."

Meg shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I've been lied to so often that I suppose now to be now different."

I felt tears prick my eyes at the terrible way that Meg had been treated. I cleared my throat and blinked quickly to keep the tears at bay. "Well, Meg, ask me anything and I shall tell you about my stay with the Opera Ghost."

"What happened to Faucher?"

I took a shaky breath and answered. "Faucher tried to rape me and Erik saved me. In doing so...Faucher was killed."

Meg gasped and turned to look at me. "Anne, I had no idea!"

I smiled sadly and turned her around so that she faced the front again. I resumed the soft brushing of her hair trying to let the gentle movements calm my anxiety. It brought back painful memories of when I had been raped as a child by a man who I was supposed to trust...my voice teacher."

"So that's why..." She left the question unspoken.

"Yes, Meg. Erik was able to help me put that behind me."

"So you'll sing now?"

I chuckled. "You have been quite adamant for me to sing. So, I think I shall be able to honor you with a song one day."

"Why not now?!"

"Meg, it's time for us to be in bed."

She huffed and crossed her arms. "But you will sing for me?"

"Yes, Meg. Now, back to my story. It was decided that I should stay until I could recover. So, under the ruse of visiting a sick friend, I stayed."

"You sound...happy."

I smiled and a sigh escaped my lips. "I am happy, Meg. Erik...the Phantom...loves me. And I love him."

Meg whirled around, her eyes wide with shock. "You can't be serious. He's so..."

"Don't you dare call him ugly, Meg."

"But...Anne..."

"No 'buts' Meg. I am deeply in love, and he loves me."

"He loves Christine."

"Well, Christine is married, and he's moved on. Now, no more, Meg. I want you to be happy for me. I love and am loved."

Meg was silent for a moment, apparently trying to decide if I was telling the truth and then accept it. "Well...I do want you to be happy, Anne. If you love him...I suppose there's little I can say."

I wrapped my arms around her. "Thank you Meg."

"Has he proposed?"

I burst out into gales of laughter. "It took us so long to admit that we love each other, I think it might take us twice as long for him to propose Meg. However, I promise, when that happens you'll be one of the first to know."

* * *

"Madame Carrolton, you are coming in two beats early. The flutes come in first, and then you." I stood next to Monsieur Moreau in the middle of rehearsal, and he was letting me correct mistakes before I got the chance to actually conduct. I had spent the entire night and early morning pouring over the pages and trying to make sense of it. Erik had left me a note giving me some idea of where to begin, but I was hesitant to listen to him. I was still upset about his lack of trust when I told him that I would return.

I reached up to touch the place where my locket had once laid against my skin. I could feel its absence after wearing it for so long. Returning my attention to the present I looked at the young man who played first chair in the flute section. "Will you please play those two measures?"

He played what I asked, a smile melody that had to be played before our Prima Donna began.

"You have to hear that before you can begin."

Madame Carrolton nodded but she did not appear to like being corrected by me...or anyone who hadn't put in the practice that she had. However, she listened and the next time she sang the passage, she did it correctly. I gave her a smile which she returned and I felt the incident over. The rehearsal continued to go well, until we had an unexpected visitor...or rather, visitors.

"Vicomte, Vicomtesse, we are in the middle of a rehearsal," I called out, despite the fact that everyone had parted on the stage to allow them access and the orchestra players had put down their instruments. I gave an exasperated sigh and walked up the stage. "I'm sorry but you can't just interrupt rehearsal when ever you choose. We are trying to be ready by opening night."

"Ah, so you say 'we' now, mademoiselle?" The Vicomte de Changy cast me a very dark look and I wondered again what Christine had ever seen in him. "So, you consider yourself part of this...society?"

"There's nothing wrong with it, Vicomte. You obviously thought so when you married Christine."

"Well, I've risen my wife to a higher calling now. She's managing quite well, wouldn't you agree?"

I gave Christine a very pity filled look as by her almost broken demeanor that it was quite clear that she was not "managing quite well." She seemed quite bent to her husband's will. I had heard so much about Christine's free and gentle spirit, especially when she had been an Opera girl. I felt sorry for the loss of such a person.

"Well, it all depends on what you mean by managing, Monsieur." I shook my head. "It's a shame really."

"What is?" Raoul took hold of Christine, possessively.

"I once thought that Christine was better off by choosing you. I can clearly see now that I was wrong. Her Phantom would never have done such a terrible thing as to break her spirit as you have done." I don't know why the words fell from my lips, as I clearly recognized the fact that by Christine choosing Raoul, I had been able to fall in love with Erik and to be so happy with my life now.

"Raoul loves me a thousand times more than the Phantom of the Opera ever could!" Christine took a few hesitant steps towards me, but she was vividly angry.

She came up so close to me that she was just standing a mere arm's length away.

I shook my head. "No, Christine, that is impossible."

"Would you like to explain that?"

I had not the desire to do so in front of such a group of spectators, but as moving to a safer location would only show as weakness on my part, I continued.

"There's a story that my mother used to read to me. Two women fought over a baby and they were brought before a great king. Both women swore that they were the child's mother and that the other woman was lying. So, the king looked to one of his guards and ordered him to take a knife and to cut the child in half, giving one half to each woman. Before the blade could be lowered, however, the woman who was truly the child's mother begged the king to give the child to the other woman so that no harm would come to it. The king then gave the child to the woman who begged that the life of the child to be shared for he knew that she was the child's mother."

"And what does that lovely little story have to do with my situation?" Christine's eyes blazed fire and her words were dangerously quiet.

"The Phantom saw that he and Raoul were constantly fighting over you and that it was hurting you in the process. You were not happy. He loved you the most by letting you go so that you could be happy. He couldn't bear to let you constantly be pulled in two."  
It happened so quick that I couldn't even prepare for it. Christine had raised a hand and had soundly slapped me across the face. As I couldn't brace myself for it, I ended up losing my balance and falling on the floor.

"How dare you say such a thing to me!" I had not anticipated her anger, but she knelt down, grabbed my upper arms and tried to shake me. "How dare you! You know nothing! Do you hear me?! Nothing!"

"Madame, I think it's best if you leave now before I have you forcibly removed from the premises." Aunt Giry's came from out of nowhere and I was grateful. Christine hadn't scared me, but I was scared for her as I was quite sure that Erik was watching.  
Christine stood up and glared down at me. "I never want to see you again," she whispered furiously. She turned and walked away. I felt Meg's reassuring arms help me up and she pushed my hair back. "There's a cut, Anne," she whispered, tears rising in her eyes.

I gently pushed her hands away. "I'll be okay."

"He'll be furious if he sees it. Let's go put a cloth on it." She turned me around to guide me off stage and I turned slightly to look up at Box 5. Erik was standing there, glaring at me, his hands tight on the railing. And then, he was gone.


	46. Revelations

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne, however, she's mine...well, she resides in my head until her story is done.**

**AN: If you read Chapter 45 before 5/15/2013, I added two lines at the end. I added this chapter paying close attention to a timeline. Today I spent almost 3 hours rereading the previous chapters and making sure that I had a timeline that actually worked. And it did with no changes that needed to be made. Whew! Now...onward! **

* * *

Chapter 46

"I'll kill her! I swear I will!" Erik paced back and forth across the music room, his mind filling with possible ways to destroy the Vicomtess. How dare she lay a hand on his Anne!

"Pacing like that, and thinking such vile things will not accomplish anything, Erik." Madame Giry stood calmly in the doorway, her hand clasped around her ever present cane.

"She had no right! No right!"

Madame Giry chose not to give in to the tugging on her lips. It was such a unique experience to see Erik so changed from the person he was a few months ago. From fawning over Christine to threatening to kill her... Erik, however, saw her fighting over her smile.

"You think this is funny?!" He roared at her. "You think slapping your niece across the face is funny? I dare say you thought that her Grandmother beating the daylights out of Anne before she decided to stay here was a hilarity as well."

It had slipped and Erik hadn't realized it. He was too busy developing plans of revenge. Madame Giry on the other hand had stopped breathing. Her mind was trying to process the fact that someone had beaten her niece. It wasn't possible. She'd have seen something. Anne would have said something...right? The moment that question crossed her mind she knew the answer. No, Anne wouldn't have said anything. There were times that she was just like her mother, always keeping the pain to herself.

She looked back to Erik, finding him to be still pacing back and forth lost in his own vengeful thoughts. Knowing that she wasn't going to get anything more out of him, she turned and left him to his thoughts. The only person that could answer her was Anne herself.

* * *

"Ow!" I exclaimed. "Meg that hurts!" I lightly touched the cut on my cheek wincing in pain. That hurt for more than I expected it to.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have antagonized Christine in such a manner to make her retaliate." Meg put the cloth back into the basin, squeezed out the excess water and returned the cloth to my cheek. "You really have no one to blame but yourself."

I replaced Meg's hand with my own and held the cloth to my cheek, hoping that the cool water would sooth the cut. "She deserved what she got," I muttered.

"Anne!"

I looked at Meg. "What? I was right and she knows it."

"Still...you provoked her."

"I could have hit her back."

"You're too kind hearted. You wouldn't have done such a thing."

I sighed, Meg's truthful words ringing in my heart. I was going to say so when the door to our room opened and in walked Aunt Giry. She looked very angry and out for blood.

"Mama!" Meg leapt to her feet. "I helped clean Anne's cut."

Madame Giry smiled affectionately at her daughter. "Thank you, Meg. Now, if you would be so kind as to fetch us some tea. I have some things to say to Anne."

Meg was out of the room in a flash, obviously not wanting to be present when I was given the set down of my life. I waited, patiently, as Madame Giry closed the bedroom door and came to sit down on Meg's bed.

"Now...Anne..."

"Before you give me a lecture, Aunt, you have to believe me when I say that..."

She held up her hand and I instantly stopped talking. "No, Anastasia." Her voice was gentle, but firm. "You don't get to talk. You get to sit and listen to me talk."

I closed my mouth. "Alright." I waited patiently for almost a full five minutes but she didn't say a word. She sat there, staring at me, apparently trying to say what she was thinking.

"Anne..." Her voice was soft and there was a slight quiver which she obviously was trying to hide. "I've heard something that...needs some clarification."

I blinked. "Alright. What do you need to know?"

She chewed on her lower lip. "Anne...when you decided to stay here, you paid a visit to your grandmother."

I nodded, entirely confused as to where this conversation was going.

"It's come to my attention that she..." Aunt Giry looked away from me as if embarrassed that she would have to say whatever it was she needed to say.

"Aunt, what is it?"

"What happened while you were there?"

I narrowed my eyes. "What do you mean?"

"How...upset...was she that you were not coming back to live with her?"

I searched her eyes for what she was really asking. I found it...the unspoken question. I decided it would be best to answer it instead of what she asked. "Yes, Aunt. Grandmama got quite physical when I told her I was staying at the Populaire."

Her eyes instantly filled with tears and I looked away. "How...how bad was it?"

I looked down at my hands that were now in my lap, grasping at the folds of my dress. "She knows how to not break any bones...but the bruises when away quickly. A little make-up, some long sleeved dresses...Erik was the only one who knew." I gasped with the realization that he must've said something to her.

"He let it slip, today, Anne. He didn't willfully give me the information."

"Oh...I see."

"Why didn't you say anything, Anne?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "There was nothing anyone could do."

"Mama! I brought the tea!" Meg burst through the door, carrying a tray laden with tea and sandwiches. She stopped seeing the two of us looking quite pensive at the other. "Um...should I come back?"

Aunt Giry shook her head and stood up. "No, Meg. Come in. You two enjoy your tea. I have to get ready for tomorrow's rehearsal." Before I could say anything, Meg was setting up the tea and Aunt Giry was out the door. I couldn't bear to let us part ways like this. I followed her out the door.

"Aunt, wait!" I reached out a hand and placed it on her shoulder. "I...I'm sorry I didn't say anything."

She turned and smiled at me. "You are so much like your mother, Anne. Always keeping things to herself. I really shouldn't be surprised that you didn't say anything." She gave me a kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow, Anne."

I watched her walk down the hallway and turn out of sight. It wasn't until Meg was calling me to tea did I return to the bedroom.

* * *

Two weeks had passed, the first of December finally arrived, and with it, the cold temperatures. Rehearsals were now over and it was time for opening night. I hadn't seen a glimpse of Meg or Aunt Giry or...anyone closely connected with the Populaire. The only time I got to see anyone was at rehearsals when I alternated conducting the orchestra with Monsieur Moreau, and even then it was all professional. With two days til opening night, the Opera House was a flurry with final preparations: costume fittings, extra dance rehearsals, and the final touches on the backdrops.

After the final dress rehearsal on Wednesday night, I collapsed into bed entirely exhausted. I was grateful that the theatre would go dark on Thursday so that everyone could have a day to rest. I had already decided that I was going to go see Erik for part of the day and have dinner with Meg and Aunt Giry. I smiled, thinking how counterproductive that was...planning out my day when I was supposed to be resting. Regardless, I had to see Erik. I hadn't spent any time him in his lair since the incident with Christine, but we had crossed ways. Apart from checking on my welfare, that was it. Nothing like the man he had been that night on the Opera roof.

"I'm exhausted! My feet have never hurt so bad!" Meg came into the room, shut the door and flung herself onto her bed. "I'm so glad we have tomorrow off. It'll give us some time to go shopping!"

I raised myself up on the elbows and looked at her. "Shopping?"

"Anne!" She raised a hand to her chest and looked at me as if I'd taken complete of my senses. "Don't you know what month it is?"

"Of course, silly. It's December." I laughed at her.

"Then you must know what happens in December! Christmas!"

I blinked. "Oh...I'd forgotten..."

"About Christmas?!" She flung out her arms and stared up at the ceiling. "I could never forget about Christmas! The Populaire will be closed on the eighteenth and then there's a big party on New Year's Eve. So, that leaves us free to have all the fun we want during for two weeks." She sat back up and looked at me, a mischievous look in her eye. "So...what do you want for Christmas?"

"I..." I looked at her and thought for a moment. "I honestly don't know. I haven't given any thought about it. What about you?"

She smiled. "I make a point never to tell people what I want. If you paid attention during the year, then you know what I've asked for."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, Meg." I threw a pillow at her which she immediately aimed back at me.

Her voice dropped to a soft whisper. "Though what you should be concerned with is what you're going to get your Opera Ghost for Christmas."

I instantly sat up straight and gasped. "Oh, no!"

Meg began laughing at me. "Your eyes got so huge!" Her laughter soon died down and then she threw me a wink. "I'm sure you'll think of something. I'm pretty sure I know exactly what he's going to get you."

I glared at her. "I know what you're thinking, Meg Giry. He's not going to propose." Not after the way we've been towards each other these past two weeks.

"Well, I'll just revel in the fact that I'm going to get to say 'I told you so' when it finally happens."

I chose not to answer her comment but she continued laughing until she fell asleep.

* * *

**AN: Going "dark" was a phrase that I heard during high school. It usually happens during performance days. We had a show Thursday, Friday, a "dark" theatre on Saturday, and then a show on Sunday. Nothing happened on Saturday except everyone getting rest. I used that similar concept here but rather during rehearsal week instead of performance week. Hope that makes sense!**


	47. Christmas Curiosities

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne, however, she's mine...well, she resides in my head until her story is done.**

**AN: Short sweet and to the point...sort of. Anyone else catch POTO on the Tony's last night?!**

* * *

Chapter 47

"Really? That's all you have planned?" Madame Giry looked over the papers that Erik had spread out on the table. There was nothing but a few bank statements and some carefully placed purchases.

"It's the simplest way to take care of this situation of Anne's family," Erik smiled ruefully, running a hand through his hair.

Madame Giry looked down at Erik and couldn't quite understand his logic. This was the man who had practically run the Opera House into the ground with his complex schemes that were always backfiring and never making any sense. "So...no notes?"

"Not as many as when the last two managers were here. I want this to go away as quickly as possible." Erik stood up from his place at the table and walked over to the window that overlooked his lake. "I'm...thinking of leaving."

"Leaving?!" That had been the last thing she had ever expected Erik to say. "Why on earth would you want to do that?"

He smiled slightly. "Anne and I can't stay here forever."

"Ah...I understand." She chuckled. "I assume you've already made the necessary purchases?"

He turned back to face her. "Everything is finished. The game just has to play out." He held up the locket that Anne had left with him.

The ballet mistress walked over and took the necklace from him. "You gave this to Maria before she left. If I recall, it has your picture on the inside."

"We were good friends, if you remember. We made a promise to each other before she left."

"Really?" She cast him a sly glance.

"Nothing like _that_, Madame. I promised to be more accepting of those who offered their care, and she promised to be a more caring person. If you recall, she got into quite a few scrapes."

The elder woman laughed. "Yes...meeting you did make her see the error of her ways. You gifted her your roses as well."

Erik looked back out the window, his heart speeding up when he saw Anne appear. "I also gifted something else to her that I believe she passed along to Anne."

Madame Giry's brow furrowed and Erik relished in confusing her. "If you'll excuse me, Madame. Anne is here." He left the ballet mistress to her own devices and made his way out of his house to see the woman who held his heart. Truthfully, he had been less than pleasant to her these past few weeks as he was trying to make sure that everything was carefully planned out. Now...he would make up for the time lost and hopefully repair whatever damage he had caused.

"Anne!" He called out to her.

"Erik?" She stopped, her face alight with confusion. "I was afraid there was a problem."

He smiled and took her hands in his. "I'm sorry if I've been neglecting you." He guided her towards his house and crossed the threshold. "I've been putting the final touches on the plans for making sure your sister leaves the Populaire." He cast her a side glance and saw that she was instantly displeased. He stopped and put his hands on her upper arms. "I promise...no physical or psychological harm is going to come to her."

* * *

I wanted to believe him and part of me did. But there was that small little voice in my head that whispered of Erik's past and the terrible things he once did.

However, that was not how trust worked. If Erik said that he was going to do this without causing harm, then I had to believe him.

"Alright, Erik." I smiled up at him, and caught movement coming from behind him. I walked around him and saw Aunt Giry getting ready to leave the house. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything..."

"Of course not, Anne." She smiled at me, and pressed a kiss to my cheek. "You enjoy your visit with Erik, dear. You're coming with Meg and I tonight for dinner."

She waved goodbye and disappeared through one of the many exits.

I thought that Aunt seemed a little too happy considering the way we had parted last night. I would have thought that she would have still been upset, but her eyes sparkled a little too brightly as if she knew something I didn't.

"Does she know the plan?" I asked Erik, but he simply smiled at me and pulled me inside. "Erik?" I asked again, a laugh escaping from me.

"I assume you're here for a lesson?"

I sighed. "The Opera opens tomorrow and you're asking me to have a lesson?"

"I thought maybe you could sing through a couple things I've written for you...or run through some technical exercises. You wouldn't have to play anything or show me what you intend to do when you conduct the Opera this week."

"That's a very tempting offer, Erik." I walked to the kitchen and he followed me. I began working on a late breakfast for the two of us. "Perhaps after I've had something to eat. I'm starving." I poked at the fire to create a bigger blaze. I began slicing up bread before I mentioned what was really on my mind. "I want to talk about Christmas."

I heard a clatter and turned around to find that Erik had dropped a fork onto the floor. He picked it up and cleared his throat. "Um...what about Christmas?"

I turned back to the bread and put the slices on a plate. I then turned to crack some eggs and whisk them in a bowl. "Well, Meg brought up Christmas and getting gifts, and I have a little bit of money saved up from working here and so I was wondering..." I stopped talking when I felt his hands on my shoulders. I took a shaky breath when his hands slowly slid down my arms and took the whisk and bowl out of my hands. He turned me around to face him and he put his fingers beneath my chin. I slowly raised my eyes to his and found him on the verge of laughter.

"And just what were you wondering, Anne?"

"Well...I...what would you like for Christmas, Erik?" It came out as a whisper as his lips were so close. I held on to his arms as his lips brushed mine.

"What if I were to tell you that I already have what I want for I want for Christmas?"

I chuckled. "Well, I'd tell you that I'm going to get you something anyway. So, you can either tell me what you would like or you're going to have to accept whatever it is I give you."

He made a great act of pretending to think on his answer. "I think I'll suffer through whatever you pick out."

I playfully slapped his arm and then turned back around to continue working on breakfast. "You keep saying things like that and I won't sing for you later."

He pressed a kiss to my neck and walked out leaving me in peace to finish working on breakfast. As the food food preparations went on auto-pilot, I let my mind wander to Christmas and what I could get Erik. Not surprisingly my mind came up empty. It would be simple to purchase new ink, pens, and blank paper for his work, but that was too easy. It had to be something that would be special and that he would appreciate for always.

I heard music playing softly and smiled. Erik had left the door to the music room open and the melody of his recent composition met my ears. It was a beautiful piece that started out soft and hesitant, and then grew bold and loud. It was a magnificent and I suddenly knew what I could give Erik for Christmas.

* * *

**AN: I apologize for the short chapter. However...I promise you that something very juicy is happening in the next chapter! XOXOXO**


	48. Called In

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne, however, she's mine...well, she resides in my head until her story is done.**

**AN: The beginning is a flashback to Elizabeth's wedding day. After the page break, is present day.**

* * *

Chapter 48

The wedding reception was just moments away and Elizabeth softly touched the delicate curls that fell over her left shoulder. The beautiful diamond ring sparkled on her finger and she smiled at the sight. She looked so beautiful in her dress of crisp white with gold trim. Everything she wore and did spoke of the luxurious life she led and the marvelous man she had married. Why then did that Anne always seem happier each time she saw her?! It was infuriating! Anne had no money, and worked in an Opera House! She had no connections...nothing to tempt a respectable man!

"I don't understand why I have to keep associating with her," Elizabeth muttered, casting her grandmother a dark glare. The elderly matron of the family stood off to the side, wearing her dress of a purple so dark it was almost black. "She does nothing for me or for this family. I have all of Paris at my feet. I've even managed to secure the interest of the Vicomtesse de Chagny!"

Madame Hillcrest rolled her eyes and clenched her cane tightly in her hand. She was a woman who always knew exactly what she was doing and now she was very grateful in not trusting the grand scheme of things to her youngest, spoiled grandchild. But perhaps now, it was time to put the cards on the table. Maybe just a little bit of twisting to make things all the more smooth would put things back on track.

"Elizabeth," she said in her most contrite voice. "There's something you never got to hear when they read your Mama's will. I had it stricken from the meeting because I didn't want you to be hurt." Madame Hillcrest placed her aged hand on her granddaughter's shoulder. "There was a house and a small income that she kept from you. It was in her will that it be passed down to Anne."

Elizabeth turned in her chair, her eyes wide with shock and confusion. "I don't understand."

"If your mother had not kept the house and income from you, things would have been so very different for you. You would have not been reduced to such devastating circumstances..."

"Why would she keep that house from me?"

The aged woman inwardly smiled. Victory! "Because she was saving it for her favorite daughter Anastasia."

Elizabeth's brow furrowed. "So...what happened with this house now?"

"Your mother left a cryptic message in her will. It was something about a box. I have a feeling it's some sort of deed or property transfer."

"A what or a what?"

The elderly matron never expected Elizabeth to be as dumb as she looked, but there were times when that expectation was tested. "She left the house to your sister. She kept from you the one chance to have been brought up in a normal life, and instead thrust you into a life of poverty and destitution."

"But...that was in the past. Things are different now. I'm rich beyond my wildest imagination. Anne is barely surviving in that Opera House."

A grim look passed over her face and Madame Hillcrest looked down at Elizabeth. She turned and made her way towards the door. Before closing the door behind her, she turned back and looked at her granddaughter. "Because Anne is far happier than you'll ever be."

* * *

It had been the truth. She had spoken the truth and Elizabeth had hated her for it. Those words spoken just a few months ago had sparked a deep and bitter resentment towards Anne and now Elizabeth was going to do everything in her power to destroy her. The terrible life she'd had, always being subject to the rude comments of the Wethertington girls had been the worst experience of her life. They'd looked down on her and constantly subjected her to their torment.

Elizabeth stood in front of her floor length mirror and admired her reflection. She was proud of beginning the latest trend in fashion and was glad she'd convinced Manchester of permanently moving his business to Paris. Well, the shipping business mainly lied on the coast of France, but residing in Paris afforded them with the means to keep everything under close moderation. Well, that was at least Manchester said. Honestly, Elizabeth could never keep business straight, but she did know that she was rich and was always invited out to the best fashionable parties.

"The Wetherington girls could never fair so well as I," she said to her reflection, a sneer on her lips. She turned, her blue dress caressing the floor as she walked out of her room down to the dining room where Manchester would be waiting. As always, Elizabeth marveled at the beautiful flooring, dark wood walls, and the ever present sign of her wealth. It was a welcome sight that would bring a smile to her lips and a prideful thought or two into her mind.

Being in this such happy state, she was surprised and confused to find that her husband was pacing back and forth across the dining room. He was furiously smoking his cigarette and running his other hand through his hair. She frowned, immediately disliking the tousled appearance, as she had often told him so.

She stood patiently at the door, however, waiting for him to acknowledge her.

"Come in, dearest," he said, five minutes after she'd appeared. He threw the remnants of his cigarette into the fire and attempted to quell his tormented feelings. "I'm sorry for appearing so distracted. I just got a piece of correspondence today that has me a little out of sorts." He stepped forward and held out a chair for her to take, which she thankfully did with no issues. Usually, when something didn't go her way, she was quick to let him know.

"That's alright, darling. Perhaps I should just take dinner alone so that you can focus on more important matters than your wife."

Manchester instantly took the cue from his wife that she was letting him know she was in trouble...again. "I think I can put my business away now," he smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. Anything to appease her and to keep the battle at bay. With the finances in a mysterious upheaval, an argument with her was not something he wanted to deal with at the moment.

"The Christmas party will be next week, won't it, darling?"

Elizabeth instantly relaxed and Manchester was able to let his mind float to other topics...particularly the missive that was still lying open on the desk in his study. He was unable to fathom how his loans had been called in and things were not adding up. He'd been very carefully with his money and with his investments and somehow...they were losing everything! Manchester had no idea how he was going to break this news to his wife, who loved money like it was her own blood.

"...and of course I'll be inviting dearest Christine and her husband."

"You'll invite your sister, won't you?"

Elizabeth instantly stiffened and he regretted asking such a question. "No, I will not. She said such horrid things to Christine upon our last visit to the Populaire though I have no idea what the intent was. It seemed that only they knew what they were talking about which is entirely uncomfortable and rude."

He took a deep breath knowing that he had to break the news to her and this was probably a good a chance as any. "You should probably be showing ever kindness to her considering we may end up like her very soon."

The soup spoon stopped on the journey to Elizabeth's lips. She turned and looked at him. "What did you say?"

"For some reason, they money invested in shipping is gone."

"What do you mean...gone?!" Elizabeth's voice was deadly soft which he knew was the sign that a great storm was coming.

"I got a missive today saying that my loans at the bank have been called in. There's almost nothing left."

Elizabeth placed her spoon on her table and dabbed the napkin at her lips. "Manchester, dear, you better find what's going on with our money." She stood up and made her way out of the dining room and into the hallway. Manchester couldn't believe how silent she'd been during that entire conversation, but Elizabeth was far from calm. Upon reaching the hallway she sent a letter to Grandmother. Something was amiss, and she knew her family matriarch would know exactly what was going on.


	49. Preparations and Discoveries

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne, however, she's mine...well, she resides in my head until her story is done.**

**AN: This chapter should really be entitled "In Which EVERYONE Wants To Talk." GEEZ! Does anyone else remember the chapters that were over 2000 words and actually had plot development?! I've reached the stage where I want to pummel everyone in my head! Grrr...**

* * *

Chapter 49

"Oh, Anne, what about this color?" Meg asked, holding up a bolt of dark blue cloth.

"It certainly brings out your hair and eyes," I replied, lightly fingering a satin so dark red it was almost black.

"You've been staring at the same fabric for almost an hour Anne," Meg teased, playfully poking my arm. "It would be so beautiful for the New Year's Ball."

"Oh, Meg, you know I wouldn't buy something so extravagant for myself."

"Oh, right." Meg nodded in an all-knowing manner. "You're going to get something for him aren't you?"

I couldn't help but smile at her words. "I have always been pretty handy with a needle and thread, and this would be a perfect color for lining."

"What are you thinking of making?"

"Erik needs a new cloak," I said, matter-of-factly. "This would be something he could have for Christmas along with my other gift."

"What else are you giving him?" Meg looked at me with such curious eyes that I almost told her.

"No. Erik is always listening, regardless of where I am and so I cannot risk him finding out. Regardless, it's going to be hard to get the measurements correct without him knowing what I'm doing. I don't want him to know."

"Mother would probably know. I dare say she's had to get things for him when he couldn't."

I dare say? I nearly giggled with Meg's use of such an English phrase. "That's true. Suppose I'll put this on hold until I can come back?"

"Or just get a bunch and use whatever's left to make something for yourself. Mother does it all the time so if she's made something for the both of us, we somehow always match."

That was a good idea. I could use the scraps to fashion some sort of bag or small wrap for me. "Perfect. I'll do it. Now...how to work on it while Erik isn't watching..."

Meg laughed. "You will have to solve that mystery on your own."

* * *

Erik handed over a slip of paper to Nadir and then leaned back in his chair. He watched as a frown came across his old friend's face and then understanding dawned.

"You do realize you've just given me a ring measurements, Erik." Nadir looked up, a smile lighting up his eyes.

Erik nodded slightly. "I wish for you to make the necessary purchases for us and have them returned here as quickly as possible."

Nadir stood up to shake Erik's hand offering him his congratulations. "Though I'm still wary of her. She'll not make life easy for you."

"I'd like to know who said that life is supposed to easy," was Erik's reply. "Anne will help make life entertaining...that's for sure."

Nadir chuckled and held up the paper. "Well, I'll go purchase these things immediately. When would you like them back?"

"Before Christmas would preferable."

"Do you intend to live here beneath the Populaire?"

Erik shook his head no. "There is a property which was gifted to Anne upon her mother's death, I believe. It will be the perfect place for us."

"And you know all of this...how?"

Erik smiled and rose from his seat. "Because I gifted it to Anne's mother."

Nadir nodded. "I'm assume you're referring to Maria de Sauveterre, Madame Giry's sister?"

"Yes. We were childhood...friends, if you will."

"You were quite taken with her, if I recall."

Erik frowned, his dark eyes glared at Nadir. "I was not. She was older than me, and showed me a great a kindness I had never known. Gifting her that property was the least I could do when she married."

"The property that I had bought for you when you reached eighteen."

Erik sighed. "If you insist on bringing up the obvious then I shall have to ask you to leave." He pointed towards the door.

Nadir laughed and put on his hat. "I'll return, Erik. I'll return very soon with your...purchases. You however need to do two things. Plan a perfect proposal, and get ready for the Opera's grande opening which should begin in about twenty minutes."

Erik's eyes flew to the time piece situated on top of the mantel, cursing himself for allowing so much time to pass.

* * *

"A triumph! An absolute triumph!" Monsieur Armand read in the following morning's paper. "The diva Madame Carrolton astounded all of Paris with her moving portrayal of _Juliette_ and Signor Matteo was a brilliant _Romeo_. The Populaire has certainly regained its footing and is destined to once again be the brilliant place it once was!" Armand chuckled and poured himself another drink just as Laurent made his way into the office waving his own copy of the paper.

"Have you seen the reviews, my dear friend?" Laurent threw down the paper, this one reading a nice review about the sudden change in the conductor for the opening night's performance. "Mademoiselle Hillcrest herself has become an interest to our viewers. Some are shocked and some are amazed that we allowed a female to conduct the orchestra. However, all are agreed that she did wonderful things with the music."

Armand raised his glass as Laurent helped himself to the expensive wine. "By following our friend's advice, Laurent, we will soon be the richest men in all of Paris!"

As Laurent took a sip of his wine, he looked at the co-manager. "Do you think there is some truth to the rumors that our friend is in reality the Opera Ghost?"

"Regardless of who or what he is, we're making money and if paying some phantom is the only way to do it...then we'll continue to do just that. Now...I'm curious to know what other talents Mme Hillcrest has up her sleeve. Almost all musicians can carry a tune."

"We're not going to have another Christine Daaé on our hands, Armand."

"Nor do we intend to have one. But...such a beautiful girl as her does not deserve to spend all of her life in the orchestra pit."

* * *

The candlelight was dim as I finished putting the final touches on Erik's cloak. Meg had fallen asleep hours ago, as we had finally wrapped up the last performance of _Romeo and Juliette_. It had proved to be a bigger success than anyone had thought possible, and I was silently very grateful. I had heard the stories of productions that had gone terribly awry. The story of _Il Muto_ instantly sprang to mind and I pushed the unpleasant thought aside. That was all in the past, and there was only the future to look forward to. Though uncertain in some respects, it was a lot more pleasant to dwell on than the thoughts of all those yesterdays.

As I fingered the intricate stitching that surrounded the collar, I was instantly reminded that tomorrow was Christmas. Everyone else's gifts had been purchased, wrapped, and locked up in the trunk that still rested at the foot of my bed. Erik's was the last I had to finish and I was filled with the silly fear that he wouldn't like it. I smiled to myself and gently folded up the cloak and placed it in its box. Wrapping it with a single ribbon, the box went into the trunk and would wait to be unwrapped tomorrow. I looked at the clock on the dresser and smiled. The time was 12:07 a.m. Tomorrow was officially today. Today was Christmas.

I took off the robe that was getting thinner with each passing month and settled myself into bed. I pulled out the notes that Erik had delivered to me over the course of the performance weeks. I knew he was going to be busy "discussing" the corrections needed for the Opera and he knew that I would be unavailable helping out when I was not desired in the orchestra pit. Fortunately, the conducting had only been for five performances, so I was able to help out backstage...something I was surprised I had delighted in. Madame Carrolton proved to be quite wonderful and not as much of a diva that most people had feared she would be. Her easy manner and minimal changes to her costume provided easy transitions and very little fuss backstage.

The notes Erik had sent, were the only way we could communicate. I was often so tired at the end of the day that I could not muster the strength to meet with him. So, in between acts and rehearsals, I would often find a note slipped into my pocket and it would bear his beautiful handwriting. They were filled with precious lines that reminded me how much I truly loved him and how much he loved me. Thankfully, I had not received any sort of correspondence from Grandmama or from Elizabeth. I had been surprised to receive nothing from the Vicomtesse de Chagny, regardless of our last encounter together. I could no only assume that any sort of contact between the both of us was now at an end. I was briefly saddened at that thought for, despite the fact that she had a lot of growing up to do, I was starting to genuinely like her. I blew out the candle and drew the covers up to my chin. Christine, in an innocent sort of way, was very much a lady whom Mama would have been happy for me to become friends.

I set aside all thoughts of Christine, Elizabeth, and Grandmama and closed my eyes. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day as I had the morning and early afternoon with Aunt Giry and Meg while the late afternoon and evening was going to be spent with Erik. I had already been up far too late and knew that if I was going to have any sort of coherence tomorrow, I was going to need my rest.

* * *

**AN: Yes...you all know what's coming. :-)**


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